The New Sith Order: Mirrormath
by Tiana Calthye
Summary: Brought 60 years into the future, the Jedi of TPM must fight to not let history repeat itself as an ancient Sith sets itself against the Jedi, as well as Time itself. But will knowing their future destroy everyone who now exists? TPM and post NJO.
1. Prologue: Taken By Chance

**Star Wars: The New Sith Order: Mirrormath**

_**Disclaimer: **Star Wars is not mine. The plot ideais. Any worlds created in the SW galaxy, any animals, any foods are free for the taking. Just leave my original characters alone. This is an AU work and not meant toreplace the canon in any means. If you can't handlefanfics being warped out of the SW universe idea of things, do not read any further. This is a crossover of sorts, twisting a few original fantasy strains into an otherwise science-fiction universe. This story is dedicated to Molly and Audreidi who have betaed for meand inspired me respectively. It is also in honor of the person on GS who said that the New Jedi Order would've been so much better had it been the New Sith Order. It's their fault._

_This prologue has been rewritten from the original posted. Chapters 1 through 5 will receive the same treatment and will get a disclaimer at the top once this has been done to them._

_**Rating: **PG for violence and very mild language, and otherwise intensive emotional scenes. Could become PG 13 later._

_**Cover art: **Linked in profile._

* * *

**Prologue:**

_Black... nothingness..._

This is Tatooine. A sweltering planet of heat and dirt swirling around your senses. Mingled with the shadows, the heat presses into your mind and forces you to struggle into your survival. The air twists and wraiths around your eyes, squirming in the heady murk that appears. A frying pan's weight of grease seems to press around your body, making you feel as if you are only a piece of someone's breakfast to be as the planet fries you.

It is a planet of death, a planet of heat and of a struggle to survive.

People do live here, but they are considered foolhardy by the rest of the universe. Yet some enjoy the pressing heat, and their existence is peaceful, enjoyed by who and what they are. They smile at the outer world that assumes their naiveté, and carry on as they smuggle, farm moisture, and attempt to keep their crops safe from Tusken Raiders, and their broken droids from Jawas. And those who don't find themselves daydreamimg about becoming troopers and traveling the galaxy to blast the lawless who live in abundance on the desert planet.

This is Tatooine, the elements of fire and air crushed together. It is a desert, a sandstorm, and a place of crucial importance in the beginnings of possibilities. Everything can effect an outcome. One wouldn't think such a reject of a planet could effect a galaxy's outcome, but even the smallest person can change the course of the world. One misstep can effect an entire lifetime.

One choice can rule over millions.

This is Tatooine, a planet of hidden life and possibilities.

_And then stars, and far away the planet almost invisible among its suns..._

Why the Jedi were here, no one knew. Perhaps the Force had taken a hand in their motions, pushing them towards this desolate place of forced existence. Perhaps nothing had, and they had chosen their own path, but all in all it lined up with fate's play. It loved to have its little game, teasing people until they followed into a path marked by millions of other footsteps in the sands of time. There was a groove in time, and it made up fate.

Though fate generally never effected time, perhaps today was different. It was said that no one could cheat death, that no one could cheat fate. This isn't true. Though in the end everyone will follow their fate to death, death can be dodged over and over again.

This is Tatooine, a planet that continues to cheat death and fate over and over again. It should have been long dead before the Jedi arrived to place their footsteps on sandy soil, breathing into the thick heat of the air, and taking in its minuscule life.

_A long time ago..._

Sometime in Tatooine's history, the planet had water. There had been a time when creatures didn't suffer that heat pressing over them and washing through their minds and souls, letting them hate the sand which gritted into everything they were. There had been a time when trees grew. There had been a time so long ago that it was impossible to imagine now that at one time there could've been oceans of water trickling around what was now salty sand.

But something had happened to change it, and now it was a desolate world that lay forgotten by all but those lawless on the Outer Rim, it seemed.

_...In a galaxy far, far away..._

But was it so far away that it was unreachable? Perhaps, had someone stepped in, many things wouldn't've happened. And it wasn't so far that things didn't happen. No, Tatooine was a crucial point in the happenings that shaped the later galaxy.

It wasn't unreachable. The Core could touch its sandy heart and stir the settled grains just enough to create unrest. It rested out, alone, but it was there. And it effected the course of the future, just as any other occurrence in the universe might have. Anything could shape time. Anything could make the future for the worse or the better, even the choice of one footstep.

_...In the aftermath of a galaxy-worn battle against the Yuuzhan Vong, the New Republic struggles to rebuild the bond between planets..._

Outside of perceptions, a lone figure on the dunes watched the Jedi. There were two. One the Padawan learner, the other the Master. There were two others there of note within the Force's bounds.

And there were other sentient beings there, this he knew well. They just lacked the grasp of the Force, the energy field that the Jedi revered and the Sith cornered. The Jedi who feared to embrace it, and the Sith who ravaged it, tearing its limits apart, and stretching it to find further possibilities with their anger.

_...Working in a peace that had been forced with the Empire, the two factions struggle to accept the new alliance within the GFFA, the Galactic Federation of Free Alliances, and to bind that in the sudden peace..._

The Sith lived so often to destroy, he found, watching the dueling manners between the two. The lightsabers flared up in the desert's heat; the child ran. Red against green, the two dueled as the sun pressed overhead. Black against cream, darkness fought to overcome the light. The struggle was incredible.

The child had reacted immediately to the Jedi's order to drop.

He was impressed.

_...Having been forced to cooperate before, the two factions now one struggle with the political differences between themselves, but there is little warring, bar between very few remnant divisions. There is peace, and the Jedi Knights of the New Republic can once more breathe in the stagnantly placid air. _

The stench of ozone drifted across the desert as the laser blades bashed against each other, whirling in a battle to prove just who was the better. It was already becoming clear that the Jedi Master's endurance was less than it could have been, and he would lose, no matter how incredible his training in the Jedi's ways of the Force had been. The Jedi Order was as failing now as his ability to duel the tattoed attacker.

But still their blades whirled on in a dance to knock the other down, and destroy them. Even if he would fail, he would parry in the whirling twist to at least die in honor if it came to such a fate.

One fought for the sake of destruction and revenge, the other for the sake of peace.

Perhaps a bit of an oxymoronish statement.

_...Differing from the Jedi Knights of the Republic of old, Master Luke Skywalker's Jedi Knights were not strong enough to be the defenders of the Republic. And, in the death of the Republic and Empire, in a sense of things, though the terms were still used commonly, it was no longer so needed. Their calling was to peace, to rebuild the Yavin IV Temple, to meditate, and slowly rebuild the Order once fallen... _

The Jedi Master was slowly forced backwards. His defense did not waver, whirling on in the acrobatic stretches of his favored form of lightsaber fighting, but his ability to hold up was slowly weakening. His feet struggled to balance on the slippery sand of Tatooine, the heat bearing a heady numbness over him.

Green blade tightly grasped in his hands, it was all the two could do to keep sweat from slipping their blades away into the void as they fought on.

The snapping clash of light against light drowned out all else in the nearby desert, though the ship could be observed to have the boy board it swiftly, scrambling up to tell the pilot the Jedi's message.

_Take off!_

And it did, the Nubian model rising from the sands and slowly gliding towards the dueling pair.

_...Leaving the defense of the galaxy to the Republic and Imperial soldiers and troops, the Jedi never foreseen that their blades would again be required to defend their galaxy against a fear impossibly reborn. They never foreseen that the galaxy would again be forced to a crumbling point as a possibility outside of the threads of reality itself began to weave into what would become very real indeed. Chaos beyond the old Empire, the Republic, the Yuuzhan Vong... and even the Force itself would begin to become very tangible... _

This was where it all centered, when the battle had hit a climax, and the Sith apprentice knew he was winning. This was where it all centered, where the ship glided with ramp open for the Jedi Master who quickly gathered his powers about himself to leap and tumble to grabbing the ramp as they took off of the desert planet. This was where it all centered. Where the sand swirled as the ship's repulsor lifts kicked in, dashing them about by a change of gravity's pull.

This was where it centered.

When the Jedi Master's leap left him tumbling into the ramp, his arm crushed beneath his body and slammed at an angle painfully not _right_ against the corner.

When his Padawan dashed to that edge of the ship, a voice startled...

It centered itself around one place where death could've been born, where one late footstep could've changed an entire person's choice and ability to speak out, where the Chosen One could've been annihilated, where a Jedi Master could've been made a shish-ka-bob a bit too soon.

_...The times were changed once again, and the battle for the galaxy had began once again with a chance occurrence outside of the threads of reality. And it would be born into chaos, and occur again, and again, and again, and again... _

The Sith was swallowed.

The Jedi Master tumbled.

The Padawan reached out with a startled hand into a seeming shimmer, and dissolved.

The Queen of Naboo in guise as a handmaiden dashed onto the boarding ramp, the boy beside her, and they fell...

First it was the Jedi Master, fingertips reaching futilely at the ramp before his eyes blurred. There was a blast of agony that started at his arm and blossomed about his body, activating all pain receptors that were left and causing them to scream.

He seen red. He _knew_ red. And everything seemed to slow, growing cold around him as his body hurled towards the Tatooine sand not so far down. It seemed to beckon, opening up to him, before a shadow grew and swallowed him in darkness. Drawing up around his entire form, it dawned upon him that he wasn't exactly dead. At least, if he were, it felt oddly different than he had expected it to feel like.

The Sith was... _gone?_ There was an odd backlash into his mind, twisting sinews of ivory into his mind that dug in deep, and scarred. The little fingertips seemed to encase him for a moment, drawing him down, down, _down... _and into those little shadowy fingertips...

He was blinded by that blast of darkness. As pitch as it was, it had been as brightly hurting as the twin suns of Tatooine. He seen nothing, but everything.

Everything, but yet nothing was there as it ripped, tore through the veil of reality...

He knew darkness.

And a little shimmer of silver that expanded in his mind before it shattered into ten thousand little puzzle pieces that bit like knives into the thread of reality. He seen his reflection in one, saw other people in the other little mirror-shreds...

Then shattered.

_Darkness._

_The shadow exists where light does not, and teases it until its destruction..._

And the Padawan learner dashed down the boarding ramp, an outcry touching his parched throat. As he cried, "Master!" he suddenly realized that he was thirsty beyond comprehension, though it hadn't been more than an hour since he had last had a long draught of water.

His fingertips grazed the skyline, the air, as the ship seemed to settle under the Queen's orders.

It shimmered.

Unnaturally.

It took about sixteen words for this to sink into the Padawan's mind. Then he realized the unnatural properties of the air, and realized that it wasn't air.

His feet decided that they wanted to make friends with the sand, and flew of what seemed their own accord off of the landing ramp. Habit pulled in through the sudden swirl of loss, and he leapt, somersaulting up into the air in a flurry of Jedi robes and human.

His feet should've gotten their wish in about seven seconds.

They didn't.

The sand seemed to open up its mouth, a yawning chasm of implications he didn't want to think about. The yellow grains swirled about, teasing his consciousness as he tumbled down towards the vortex of what appeared to be darkside sand.

He never reached it. The shimmery air got to him first.

A ripple.

That was when he realized for certain it wasn't air. When it pressed about him, seeping into his ears, nose, and open mouth, and soaking his clothing through to his skin. Plus it was cold. And wet.

_There's no water on Tatooine..._

It was swallowing him whole. The young Jedi couldn't breathe, couldn't move his hands or arms-- felt his lightsaber slip from his hands, and his focus went out to grasp for it. It rebounded back into his hands for a second, and he clung to it, forcing his fingers over it through silver water.

_But it is water..._

A flicker... he knew no more beyond the visions. The black water that closed over his head, until someone's hand reached through and pulled him up towards the surface, but he was falling through the water like the sand. And his rescuer failed, and his body fell down towards the bottom of the water, being pulled under by a force stronger than his own swimming skills.

He drifted before his body landed on sandy ground.

But someone pulled him out...

Suddenly his body seemed to resurface of its own accord, spitting out water while trying to gasp in the damp oxygen that seemed to elude his lungs. It wasn't that he couldn't hold his breath for any length of time. It was that he had been unprepared, he told himself. _Not that there was an invisible force that I couldn't sense pressing against my lungs and holding me down while my body inhaled water in a struggle to keep from unconsciousness..._

He knew he wasn't on Tatooine. There was no real surface water on the bitterly hot desert planet.

He had a bad feeling about this.

_Water_

_Your change allows the galaxy to grow as you slowly wear down the rocks that stand in your way..._

The figure on Tatooine watched in a vague amusement as the two final beings left the ship. But it wasn't their turn yet... no... there was one other.

And that other was the red skinned Zabrak being. The alien had been drawn into the yawning sand that opened wide to his existence, teasing him with visions of chance. There was anger. The anger spawned the rushing exhilaration of the Force flowing within his veins. And then there was the Force. There was nothing but the Force... there was nothing.

The Jedi had been weaker. The Sith knew this, with an odd smile touching his face. It made him look very creepy. At least, it would have, had there not been a lot of sand crushing him down, down... _down_...

At least, that was how it felt.

He was annoyed. He was angered. What was this? He felt the presence's of the two Jedi wink out of existence. And he felt a light bearing up around him, melting the sand into strings of glassy glue as they wove away around him.

For a moment, the magma-heated glass burnt. It stung into his skin, biting at his flesh and bones. But he ignored the pain. There wasn't much of a choice, now was there?

The light swallowed him.

It also swallowed the pain.

As much as the Sith hated to admit it, he was grateful that it no longer tore him apart, and that there was that small measure of comfort in his normally chaotic existence. He regretted it immediately, of course, but there was that tickle in the back of his mind.

_I will not accept this,_

he thought with a calculating expression, already determining the possibilities. _I will hunt them down, and my blade will bring their deaths. I will follow my orders. I will not be distracted by pain, or the relief of it. _

The Zabrak Sith gritted his teeth. And there was light, and there was nothing.

He fell.

The light chased him. And the magna mirror congregated into a shiny puddle of clear and icy glass that could be made into a window to look through, or a mirror to reflect. Of course, it could also have been molded into a little glass ducky figurine, but that was taking the metaphor perhaps just a little too far for its own well-being, and made no sense whatsoever.

Of course, it could've made a plate too... or a cup... but sometimes metaphors need to rest in peace before they get too out of hand and cause just as many issues as the paradoxes that tend to whisper and twist into little shadowy shapes within the mind's of those who would seek Time.

As the Sith drew himself to his feet, he quickly determined something wasn't quite right here.

_Light._

_Burn through the shadows, destroy with brilliance... your power will be unrivaled if you can embrace what you are._

A queen and a Tatooine slave boy grasped each other's hands, both wearing a terrified expression struck across their faces. The others had just... vanished... like... that!

The boy's mind whirled, but it was there enough to realize what his companion was doing; calling back to the captain to hold the ship back, her feet hitting the boarding ramp with a suprising graceful speed, heading down towards the sand where she had seen the others vanish.

He found his feet moved against his body's will, dashing to be beside her, to be what support he could offer the fourteen year old girl. They both knew so clearly that something was wrong, that everything could go wrong, and that somehow they could all die if this carried on.

He wasn't afraid. Neither was she. Neither of them were making any effort to think this through. The mindful sense of the danger was there, teasing the backs of their minds, but it wasn't tangible. Some part of their conscious selves shoved it aside.

Together, they walked down towards the sands of Tatooine that spanned across the desert and touched the polar regions. Even those extremities were dry and barren, at the best a slightly cool temperature that allowed water to sit without evaporating immediately. At least, they should've walked there.

But they didn't. The second her feet reached the sand, something reached through the air and plucked her form from the ramp. It tossed her up into the furthest depths of space, of the atmosphere that grabbed hold of the planet and held the heat in.

It drilled her, tossed her hair, and tossed her Outwards.

_Air..._

_Be light and fly above all the chaos that will try to drill you into unknown places. Realize that only you have the ability to push the rainclouds and stimulate the fire into a furnace of heat._

And the boy only had a moment to stretch out a small hand, his voice broken in the sweltering air— "Padmé!"—before the heat suddenly forced its way through his very bones, his soul, melting his internal conflict and ability to focus. He felt himself drain away, felt his being light aflame.

He felt everything he ever loved go up in flames; a hatred for those very flames that, though they built him up destroyed him at the same time.

The boy dissolved with a bitter outcry that sliced the desert's airways and sent a lizard scattering. All that remained of the two were two footsteps partly formed in the sand, and the wind swiftly swept those away into oblivion.

_Fire..._

_Light the galaxy aflame, young Skywalker, though it is another's fate to walk the skies for you._

* * *

Luke Skywalker, Jedi Master and friend to Captian Solo, sat up. There were shadows around him, a typical darkness in the room. Mara Jade-Skywalker slept, seemingly unaware of his sudden distress. Was it even distress?

He narrowed his eyes, though in the darkness and alone it did little but serve his body's old habits. Exhaling sharply, he glanced over to observe the time, and that there was still hours left on the night cycle on the rebuilt Yavin IV Temple. Ridiculous to be awake at this time, he told himself. Completely.

_Under a rainfall, the jungle flourished, growing up and up to touch the skies, and then it withered. Death came about, and the vines shrank back. _

_There was a new rainfall then, and it was silver shards of glass. The trees bled and the land was rendered unusable._

He was tormented by the flickers of the dream that had not felt like a vision. Laying back down, he stared at the roof. It was covered in small tiles. Slowly beginning to count them, he wondered how long it would take before sleep would reclaim him, if at all.

Ten minutes later, he decided it was useless. The Force wasn't about to let him sleep. Standing up, Luke grabbed his robe and pulled it on, dressing quickly in the pressing darkness, boots, belt... he hesitated before running his hand quickly through his hair. Not like it mattered, but he didn't mind looking slightly presentable in case there were any other sleepless Jedi about.

Allowing his mind to emit a sense of peace and wellbeing in case Mara had sensed his movement, he left the room quickly, and headed off to see if it was possible to get breakfast at the Yavin equivalent of three in the morning. _Probably not,_ he determined, and went for a walk.

_Earth..._

_Stand firm, young Master. You must be their strength when times fade..._

_And rain, jaded one, for you are the tears that will be shed._


	2. 1: Leaving Tatooine

This chapter has been rewritten as of July 8th. Thank you to Ami for betaing.

**-Chapter One- **

You don't get enough sleep when everything that exists serves only for one purpose. Torment. And when _everything_ is the Force itself, it's hard to ignore the pressing contortions against every fraction of your mind.

Even the great Jedi Master needed sleep. It was a fact, yes, that all Jedi could _survive_ without sleep, without food, without water, for up to a month in hibernation. The Force was an incredible thing, for an energy field, in that manner of thinking. To some it's everything, to some merely a tool-but incredible, nevertheless. Yet, even though it all, there are certainly very few Jedi who _want_ to try pulling off an all-nighter, tormented and teased by visions of silver. Going for a month in an X-Wing? Oh, look, volunteers. Stay up all night and let the Force guide you?

Oh, you have to test the softness factor on your pillow. So sorry...

Which was why Luke Skywalker, Jedi Master, was lethargic. He had slept a few hours that night, but certainly not enough. Even a Jedi Master needed more than two hours of rest; all the more so as one aged and was faced with all the stresses of a universe either looking up or down to you. Mara Jade?

Of course _she_ was able to sleep.

_Women,_ he thought with a sigh. _Just wait. Three days from now, when I need my rest, she'll be up and at it, bugging me to go for a walk with her... asking me to check on Ben... _

_Just wait._

He felt the vain echoes of what could only be described as the darkside in the back of his mind. Not his own thoughts, his own moment of distain. Yet... there was something _off_. Something distant and fleeting, teasing the fringe of his mind, dancing on the shadows underneath his eyes, a message in a bottle that he just couldn't touch. The waves carried it away, letting it taunt him, but keeping it just beyond his grasp, just a bit too swift for his senses to latch upon and drag to the wet and sticky sand.

It resounded, then was gone.

The memory remained, just loud enough to mock.

_Sith_, the obvious side of his mind said firmly.

_A Force-sensitive Yuuzhan Vong turned to the darkside?_ the impossible hopeless romantic side of him asked. He swore he heard something sardonic flicker within that mental tone. The avatar his mind wore smirked slightly.

Luke gritted his teeth slightly, blue milk threatening to slosh out and onto his dark brown garb had he not remembered the bite of breakfast that was within his teeth. He would've grinned sheepishly, but as it was still there, he merely swallowed hard. The slightly sweet flavor of artifically generated bantha milk whisked across his tastebuds, and the Jedi Master found a side of his mind considering exactly what they used to synthesize the flavor. Whatever it was, it didn't taste right.

A strong manifestation of darkside energies...

The person in his mind grinned dryly, running a hand through his flaxen blond hair. _No, it's just a memory of the darkside._

_When did I get a split personality_, he wondered. And realized he didn't, it was merely his own thought processes working against himself, of course. Or perhaps it actually was just that he was going insane. He wondered sometimes if it was possible for a Jedi to completely loose track of their sanity, or if that was a part of the job description. One of those little things written in very small print at the bottom of the page.

Lightsaber not included-you have to provide your own. But you get free access to the Force, and with it, your very own annoying personality glitches that speak up in your head at annoying moments to point out the obvious! He could just _hear _the exclamation point supplied by his mind.

_I'm probably not the only one_, he decided, and took another bite of the synthetically flavored cereal with just a bit too much powdered sugar sprinkled on top of it. In the shape of little x's too, he noted with an odd grin.

Stirring around the remainder of the wheat cereal in the bottom of the bowl, Luke let himself smile broadly. _This cereal and its unknown ingredients have to be far more evil than any Death Star reborn could be, at least at the moment._

For there were those moments, when cereal could serve as an effective distraction. How could someone escape them? Stress took tolls; if you couldn't let yourself breathe and grin a bit over the existance of sugar-coated x's, you couldn't possibly enjoy life.

Around him, voices clamored for attention. Young Jedi spoke up, vividly jabbering about their hopes and dreams for the future. The Force swirled with emotions and dislike for the oatmeal mush that was left for the latecomers down to the cafeteria for breakfast. A mix of everything from love to hate, from peace to amusement, jam, breadcrumbs, and cereal in small flakes was woven into the atmosphere, and the Jedi Order of the New Republic was at peace.

People spoke, poked fun at, discussed serious topics. Smiles and laughter were exchanged, as were heated glares across tabletops. A girl yelped as a wadded up ball of paper hit her head, a boy wondered if the construction of the cafeteria was safe enough for them to be eating in. After all, the reconstruction of the Temple was hardly finished...

In the galaxy, darkside energies manifested into deep shadows where Jedi Knights sought out the sources, and were stricken silent. Their voices cried out through the tide of the Force, and into the life around them, falling into death and silence. Ships and people passed, lives went by and fell into nothingness.

Planets and moons, metallic lifeforms and bioformed beings. Dark and light, fire and water... contrast, everywhere. It made the rest of the galaxy stronger. And somewhere, a depth waited, and watched for one destined to take a step to cross the skies. It wasn't spoken whether he would trip and fall, or walk the rainy path to light. Only that the step would be taken.

But he didn't care, because at the moment he was too tired to be any more than amused by his cereal's oddly artificial contents. As concerned as he was about the whispering advances of the dark energy on his mind, as devastated as he was about the loss of the Jedi on the other side of the galaxy during the seeker mission... there were times when such things didn't stick in a beings mind. Now was one of them.

He would worry later, fear later, weep later, mediate later.

* * *

In the stillness, a woman's feet gave out from beneath herself, crumbling to her knees. She couldn't bring herself to stand, because there was nothing left to stand upon. Her eyes were lowered, and she couldn't find the effort needed to bring them open, to look upon the chances of death, the chances whispering of no hope.

Her fingers emptily brushed against the ground, or lack of it, in front of her, almost lazily murmuring that there was nothing left to stand on. For a moment she felt dust before one came up behind her.

She wondered that if pain was crimson, whether death was black and calm was blue. Were emotions only colors, only shades in the entirety of living?

And if this was true, what color was time? Green, always growing, never yielding; red is go and amber yield-if time is green, then surely all of the people must be amber lights slowly fading into red.

And time, it now (or then) wound around her very body-agony inside, time outside; there was no escape because there was _nothing_.

As if something had sapped all of her energy, draining her life from her very limbs, she collapsed forward, body crumbling into a black desert of crisp ebony sand.

Dark hair momentarily masked any features that might've shown in the space of nothingness.

And then a footstep crunched in the sandy wastes, a pale hand reached down and brushed her hair from her face. He pulled her upright, but she was lost, only a puppet now in the hands of time.

He dropped her and her body remained. After a while wind blew overtop of her body, slowly piling black sand over her robes. She became merely another dune in time's dusky murmur.

* * *

Here was Tatooine again, a planet perhaps not so contorted by time and space as any other location. Sand still twisted in little dunes, heat piercing through any physical attempt to breathe out without loss of water.

It was a dangerous zone, and sixty years didn't alter that in the least. It was still a desert, a harsh environment that insisted on hurting and slowly bringing about the death from lossing the portion of water your body needed to survive as a human being. Your tongue would grow thick, motions chunky, eyesight swimming as you stumbled forward...

Anakin struggled upright, the barest hint of a strangled and now cut-off outcry escaping between parched lips. He touched his hair tenatively, feeling that somehow he had just been through the furnace of a thousand universes. His voice trailed off, the words he had screamed out lost into another time.

Glancing around swiftly, he blinked sand out of intensively blue eyes. Eyelids heavy, it took him a long moment to reorient himself in the midst of what felt like chaos, but surely wasn't.

It was Tatooine.

Wasn't it?

Sand stretched out in all directions, seemingly an endless sea of brown contrasting against two suns. He had to be careful not to look up into them too long, glancing down swiftly but already seeing twin white spots against his vision every time he blinked. Mos Espa seemed to be barely visible on the horizon, but came into greater focus when he narrowed his eyes.

It vanished again when he reoriented his vision.

That was odd.

They had been on the outskirts just a moment ago, after all. The Nubian ship hadn't been that far out. The Nubian ship which _wasn't_ there anymore. That _was_ odd. Wasn't it? Or perhaps not... whatever had just happened...

"Mom?" escaped from the child's throat. And there was nothing, not even an echo. How could there be an echo when there was no solid stone to reflect his voice?

Maybe he had dreamt it all. Imagined up Padmé and the podrace and the Jedi Knight and the tattooed creature who had appeared and dueled the Jedi in the sand. It was possible, wasn't it? What child didn't daydream about Jedi Knights and monsters and creations far beyond reality?

Watto would be furious.

_So many maybes..._

He scanned the horizon. Where was Anchorhead? Where was _any_ moisture farmer's settlement, for that matter? Surely they hadn't gotten that far out from any sentient life, beyond perhaps the Tuskens, somehow living out in the horrific atmosphere offered by Tatooine's twin suns beating off of the sand.

Things were barren.

Anakin hardly fancied the idea of being lost on Tatooine after nightfall; he didn't appreciate the idea of being away from any human settlements for any great length of time, either. Not here where the sun beat down on him, sending sweat droplets tracing down his back.

_Any Jawas?_

He didn't cry out for attention. Something could be watching him. Something nasty.

Someone, anyone, any_thing_... anything that wasn't going to ravage him, scalp him, or bury him alive. Something that could point him towards a settlement before thirst overcame and he succumbed to the continual pressures of the desert's dehydration.

The Force was with the newly freed slave boy, however, his strangling footsteps leading him across the sand into a rocky area. There was some shade here, a cliff or two masking the sun's intensity ever so slightly, and hiding a house away from prying eyes either from above or below. He wasn't so foolish as to run, but Anakin made his way towards it.

A small dwelling, he realized a bit later. Abandoned and lingering all alone on Tatooine's barren landscape, it was a hermitage of some sort; something perhaps that should've been destroyed by time. It felt... familiar. He approached it with a mild feeling of trepidation, entering and feeling an intensive amount of relief sweeping over his body.

He didn't feel welcome here, but it was cooler than the outside. The idea that it could've been a heat trap had been horrifying.

Having been out in the desert perhaps a bit longer than was desirable, as soon as he regained his bearings, Anakin sought out water. Every house outside of Mos Eisley would've had to have some sort of water tank underneath the house, equipped to gather water from the air and the dry soil if possible. It was similar to any moisture gathering apparatus, but perhaps a hint more intensive and thought-out, and a great deal more compact.

The water was stagnant and murky, a bit stale smelling from the years of disuse that the equipment had clearly faced, but it was water. The machine had very nearly fallen into wreck, but had kept on gathering water mindlessly, slowly getting clogged with sand and rust. It groaned a bit as Anakin glanced over the system: a simple system that he thought he could've fixed and had functioning at a prime level with a few hours of work.

But, for the moment, he sipped at the stale water slowly. It quenched his thirst, although the taste left something to be desired and it was far from the standard definition of refreshing ice water. After a couple of handfuls of water, he left it to sit. Who knew how long he'd have to remain here, if it was too far out from Mos Espa, Mos Eisley, or any occupied location?

_A map._

Scavenging through the supplies left in turmoil, he finally located an ancient datamap, and glanced to see where they were. The nearest settlement... _Oh, stang._ Mos Eisley was far from a quick jaunt over. He knew he should've been gratified by the relatively safe location to spend the night, complete with water and even bedding, but he couldn't help but swear to himself.

Without a landspeeder, it wasn't about to be an easy walk, and certainly not one he could make tonight. Not without risking his life at the hands of the Sandpeople.

The occasional drip from underneath the house was his only companion, though, and it wasn't about to give him an answer as to how he could get home without scorching his skin and suffering dehydration. _Who lived here, that they had to be this far from any settlement! What, were they nuts?_

But luck had seemed to have been on his side this far. The moisture-gathering machine was working more or less, and he knew he could hit it a few times and convince it to work all the way with the help of a few tools. He had a relatively safe place to spend the night. He wasn't dead...

Maybe the next day he'd find an old speeder bike or something he could modify to get home faster; to get to Mos Eisley alive. But no, Anchorhead was closer..._Maybe Watto wouldn't skin him alive, if being freed had only been a dream._

It grew dark.

Anakin shivered with a sensation of extreme familiarity that seemed to sweep itself over his mind and body.Something so very alien, and yet so very akin to himself...

He put the map aside and stood up.Maybe there'd be some sort of food left in a unspoilable package.

The sunlight became gradually more blocked as time circled around them... Anakin paused a moment, pushing hair out of his eyes again. Eyes which swiftly narrowed as he picked up on the vaguest trace of a sound.

_A ship!_

* * *

The _Falcon _landed smoothly on Tatooine's surface. It had been Leia's request to come here, some blather about the Force leading her to insist fairly vividly on landing here, near an old hermitage. Han recognized it, at any rate. Luke had stayed here once.

They were supposed to be on Coruscant, aiding in the rescue efforts. _Everyone_ was suppose to be there, if they could be spared.

A hiss of breath escaped the woman's mouth, gazing outside the ship to the sandy hermitage.

_Vader. _

_No, no, that can't be right at all. Far too much stress. _

"Leia?" Han had already unbuckled the crash webbing, standing up and stretching himself out from the cramped cockpit. The shutdown cycle had already been initiated, running through smoothly, without any of the hitches the strange system offered. "Thought you wanted to come here for a reason, not to sit around in your chair and grumble."

She smiled dryly, unbuckling herself to stand up. "Did."

Quickly exiting the ship, she was hit by the sudden dryness. The entire area seemed saturated with a filth and stench that only a planet continually bombarded by years of straight sunlight could produce. If there was a cloud in the sky, it was a moment for rejoicing, for laughing. If it ever rained, it would be akin to hell freezing over, all the things that never happened coming true.

I'll date you when it rains on Tatooine. The Empire will return when it rains.

_No wonder people want off this planet._

But why, she wondered? Why had she insisted, almost childishly in temperment, to come here? With the Republic and Empire finally merged into one, with the war over, with all the efforts to restore Coruscant to some bare figment of its former glory? And then there was something in the corner of her eye... Leia blinked and glanced over to her left. Footprints in the sand.

Child's footprints, soft and undefined.

"Well! Hey! Leave my ship alone!" Leia's head snapped up at Han's sharp tone of voice, yelling at something. No... some_one_. A kid, garbed in the pale clothing of any Tatooine farmer had crept from the shadows of the enclosed house, dashing into the ship. Had he planned to stow away?

"I'm not going to hurt your ship!" The child's eyes were a dead ringer for Luke's, though long and messy hair hid most of his general features underneath a mop. Haunting and almost older than he should have been, the child looked well worn.

"I've just gotta get out of here! There was a battle and this evil red dude and Jedi! And then everyone vanished! And I woke up here! And I've gotta get back to Mos Espa or Watto'll skin me!"

Leia's eyes narrowed. "Your father?"

"Nuh-uh. My owner."

"You're a servant?"

"A slave," the boy muttered. "But I'm not anymore! I'm a person. A free one! Really!"

Han sighed. "Well, princess, here's your calling from the Force. Are we going to play taxi?"

She sighed in return. "I suppose so."

* * *

After a few hours of searching in Mos Espa, they finally gave up. There was no sign of any of the people the boy (Anakin, as he had called himself, lending a bit of a wince to both of their faces. People who wanted to mimic the Jedi and their heroes, but it still hurt to meet another _Anakin_) said would be there. There was only an old, abandoned and ransacked shop where he said he worked. Some child's storytale? But even with the aid of the Force on her side, she hadn't been able to get much more out of him.

"Maybe it wasn't a dream!" Anakin raved to himself. "I did win my freedom and they did take me away!"

Han grumbled something about childish dreamers and overly sympathetic wives as he led the way back to the _Falcon_.

"I was in this podrace!" Anakin carried on. "And then I nearly got killed, but I salvaged the pod. And then I won and the Jedi were going to take me back for testing, because they said I had the powers to be a Jedi Knight if I wanted to be..."

_Slavery's outlawed. It's been outlawed for years. Even the Hutts... mostly... obey it now. They still have slaves, but not so blatently..._

"...but then there was this _huge_ battle! And Master Qui-Gon was fighting this evil red demon dude! He was probably a desert monster. A genie. With magic powers! And then Padmé and I left the ship and there was this really _weird_ firey thing..."

"We'll take you to the Jedi, then," Leia finally reasoned with a sigh.

_Master who?_


	3. 2: The New Order

A.N: Thanks to Audreidi for being Beta on this chapter. You will all read and review her stories... she's so much better of a writer than I am!

** Darth Warious**: Don't be too sure of that, my dear Sithly friend... you can't possibly know where I'm going ALL the time. Though I suppose, since you have read 95% of my writings, you WOULD have a good idea of where this is leading up too... Candies 2, by the way, is being posted on M.E., not , so check there for updates... I should get an update up tommorrow if I'm lucky.

** Audreidi:** Not really much to say to you, master, as we've already commented by email, ehh? Yeah... longer chapters... okay, I swear that after this chapter, I'll try to make them 7 pages in Times New Roman font face, size 12. Heh. Thanks for betaing... I'm making you do the next chappy too! Hope you like the changes I did! Near paste... heh... 

And the story continues...

Chapter Two

_ The Jedi did this. _

The first thing that came to the Sith's mind was just that. _ The Jedi. _

Where was the Jedi? 

The red and black tattooed Sith looked around, his lightsaber still in hand, but now deactivated. He could feel them, feel their presence near, but yet, not that near. It wasn't Tatooine, that was sure as his hate for their Lightside actions, their pity, their justice, their mercy. Darth Maul hated the Jedi, and he would find them again, no matter where he was. 

Which was a good question as it were. Where was he? It was no holographic trick, like he would've expected of the Jedi fools, but real, living, and green. Tatooine was not green. Green, and unnaturally moist, so different from the desert planet he had just been on. It was very jungle-like, giving him the thoughts that it was probably one of the moons of Yavin, or maybe Dagobah, the swamp planet... he had been there once, a long time ago. 

It wasn't swampy enough, so Darth Maul was quick to assume that it was Yavin IV, or V, maybe. But he could feel other presence's near enough, and the moons of Yavin were not inhabited... at least to his knowledge. There _ had_ been people there, at one time, the Massassi people... maybe they were still there. There was a good deal of controversy running throughout his mind. 

_ The Jedi did this. _

Flicking on his lightsaber, with a snap-hiss, he brought the blade through some of the smothering plants that seems to attract themselves towards him. Watching the vines fall to the ground gratified him, the destruction, the power over living things. The loss of life from the plants...he did not know why it gave him power, but yet it did. The power over something's life or death... that was his his hands. It filled him with a level of feeling, that there was little that could stand in his way. 

There was nothing that could stand in the way of the Sith, not even the Jedi. The proof of that was in the vines that lay in a heap on the ground-- destroyed. And it was not just the plants that he had his destructive control over... people. The Jedi even. Darth Maul knew that the Jedi had been tiring, he had felt it in the weakening attacks.

The Jedi were afraid of him, afraid of his power... the _ true_ power of the Force.

He would have his revenge. When he found his way off of this moon, there would be little in his way to destroy them, but, for now, his thoughts turned to just that: getting off of the moon. But someday... someday.

But for now, his goal was to make it out of this forsaken jungle, with all its living things, different from the world he preferred: Coruscant. Shifting his lightsaber to a more workable angle, Darth Maul began carving up the vines that lay between him, and the way out. Even the jungle held some danger for him, as did the swamps, and such. He wasn't going to stay there any longer then he had to.

Moving the red beam, he watched as the next set of vines fell to the ground, never to grow again, or block the paths of a Force-user.

A flicker of hate... a darkness... 

Mara Jade found herself sitting up so sharply from where she had been meditating a moment ago, and startled herself out of her trance. 

There was a darkness, not unlike that of the Emperor... hate... a strong feeling against the Jedi. 

Looking around, the red-gold haired Jedi stood up. Luke was nowhere to be seen, probably off addressing his students in the assembly hall, or the cafeteria... hopefully the younger Jedi hadn't started a food fight _ again_. They were so prone to things like that, though not so much now, not after so much had happened. The Vong... Anakin's death... the birth of her son... there was so much there.

So much tragedy, and death. So many lives lost... planets... things. More than once, they had nearly lost Jacen, Jaina... they _ had _lost Anakin. For her, during those times, her son-- Ben-- had been one of the few bright spots in her life. Ben, and Luke.

So many potential Jedi lost to the voxen, those manic Jedi hunters...

Yes, with all the tragedy from the wars, the younger Jedi were no longer so prone to acts such as food fights, such as any manner of playfulness. She knew it as well as Luke, as well as all the others that had lost family to the wars... there was less joy in the galaxy now. Less cheerfulness, even though the battle had been finished. 

The presence that had touched her felt so much like the Emperor... not like the Dark Jedi, even, but more pure evil, different, in a manner. Like Lord Vader had been... a clear amount of darkness caught within a single mind. Potent, and there, a very strong power. She couldn't feel it now, but it had been there, strongly in the back of her mind, as if it had been looking for her. 

And yet not. There had been surprise in the touch, not just a hate towards Jedi, and a seeking eye towards her. Whatever the person had been seeking, it hadn't been Mara Jade, for anyone that powerful in the Force would've located her, and sought her out, if the goal had been to find her. 

But what... 

Or who. 

The mind hadn't been a human mind, with human thoughts, that had disturbed her meditation, it had been an alien, with alien thoughts, and unknown intentions, that she had felt. That much she knew through the Force. 

Remembering all that had happened from the Emperor, and Lord Vader, a resolve set into her. Mara Jade was not one to let an evil return to an already struggling galaxy. The old determination that she knew so well set into her mind, as she closed her eyes, and reached out with the Force.

And there it was... someone in the jungles, not too far away from the Temple, with a set reserve... and a feeling of destruction was the first thing she felt from him-- she was sure it was male. A presence like the Emperor, in many ways, though not quite as strong. 

Mara made certain that her lightsaber was fastened to her belt, as she left the room, as well as her holdout blaster, and went to locate Luke. 

There was a sudden splashing nearby, and Jaina turned to see what it was. The fact there was water nearby did not surprise her, being on Coruscant after it had been Vong-formed. Nor did the heavy amount of living things that blocked her from locating the pool that seemingly was nearby, on the other side of a heavy tangle of Vong-formed vines. 

Reaching out, and ignoring the amount of invisible spots in the Force caused from the Vong-formed life, Jaina finally located the area, a few meters to her right there was a human, somewhere. And that would've been where the water was, then. 

The tangled wall of vines prevented her from walking there easily, though. 

The Solo girl shook her head, and began to push her way through, only to meet with resistance, at a ferrocrete wall, mostly deteriorated, but still solid enough to prevent her passage. 

The splashing continued. 

Jaina sighed, and looked around. None of the rest of the team was in sight; they had probably already returned to the ship now, as they were suppose to have left the day before, but the Coruscant mission had taken longer than expected. 

"Jaina..." 

She heard a voice off to the distance, implying that the others were already back at the ships, and shouted back, using the Force to amplify her voice. "I'll just be a few minutes..." _ I hope._

Drawing her lightsaber, it illuminated the area, as the light slowly went dimmer. She pushed it through the wall slowly, and carefully, bringing it around to cut a hole through the crumbled ferrocrete, and stopping at a voice from behind. And whoever the voice belonged to, she was sure that it was a Force-user-- the wall was thick enough that without the Force, the voice would've been muffled.

"Who's there?" A male voice from the other side. As said above, his voice was clear, Force-amplified as hers had been, when she had called over to the others. 

"Jaina Solo," she answered, trusting that whoever it was probably knew who she was, being the daughter of the famous Leia Organa Solo, and former General Han Solo. She sighed slightly as the thought came to mind, whoever this was, Jania knew very well that because of her fame, he could be dangerous. She held her lightsaber at a slightly defensive stance, just in case he had a Blaster. "And you?" 

"I am Obi-Wan Kenobi," he answered. There was another muffled splash, and Jania assumed that he had slipped backwards. Jaina hid a smile for habit, even though she knew that he couldn'tsee her. "I'll be finished cutting through the wall, Obi-Wan Kenobi, so if you'll stand back for a moment..." 

At the moment, the name didn't mean anything to her, just a name. She was too frazzled from the last few days to recognize it, either. 

He agreed with that, and Jaina finished slicing the wall apart, sounding a warning before she pushed it through, as to not hit Obi-Wan over the head... she was sure enough that she had came close to getting him with her lightsaber anyhow. There was a _ spoosh_ sound, as the remainder of the wall went falling into the pool, and splattered Obi-Wan with the greenish water-- again.

She smiled slightly, as she looked him over: a younger man, with a strange hair-cut-- one braid dangling from behind one of his ears, and a shorter cut. His clothes looked very much like most of the Jedi tended to wear as well... a loose fitted outfit, in a rather neutral tone. Not to mention that he was soaked to the bone with the murky looking water. He was on his knees in the water-- which wasn't that deep where he was: it came up to mid-calf on Obi-Wan-- and looking for something.

"That's... very interesting," he murmured, quickly locating what he was looking for-- his lightsaber. 

A Jedi. 

Only Jedi carried lightsabers... Jaina didn't recognize him from the Jedi Academy... and yet, he didn't seem Dark. His presence in the Force was not quite as evil as it would've been, had he been a Dark Jedi, though he could've disguised the hate, and anger within, if he was strong in the Force, she thought. 

His eyes drifted to her lightsaber, which she carried quite easily, not as if she had been a non-Force-user. "You're a Jedi too," he commented. 

_ I've never seen him _before, Jaina though. _ That's odd._ "Yeah. You will be looking to come off-planet," she said, thinking over what she was planning to do. He didn't _ seem_ evil, at least... there was definitely a feeling of the Lightside within him. "You can come with us, and dry off your robes," Jaina finished, more an order, then a suggestion. 

There was a moment of silence, as both thought heavily, Jaina whether it was a wise idea to take this Obi-Wan back to Yavin 4, and Obi-Wan whether to accept her offer. The moment, however, went fast, as Obi-Wan nodded. "Very well then," he answered. 

The two of them made their way towards the ships, slowly, both of them wondering all too many things, about the other, and about what was going on. The planet's landscape prevented the two from moving much faster, anyhow, being as it was rather rocky, and littered with old chunks of walls. Walls, and other things that had at one time covered Coruscant in a never-ending city.

It had been once said that the city went down so far that no living person had ever seen the true surface of the planet, and Jaina found herself wondering whether the Vong-formed land was even the planet's surface. Or was there another city down there, in the depths of the green, and soggy ground, a city that had lived underneath the surface for years, and years.

There were always things like that to wonder. Jaina knew that not all of the city had fallen to pieces, there were still many survivors that had eluded the teams sent out. Teams such as the one they were on right now. And nearly all of them composed of the waning number of Jedi, for only Jedi could sense the people hidden within in Force-invisible Vong-formed life. Yes, the waning Jedi... so many had been killed in the wars, but now, hopefully, they would begin to grow again in number. Maybe one day, like the Old Republic Jedi, they would be the keepers of the galaxy's peace once more.

The thoughts of the Old Republic brought her back to this newcomer, this Obi-Wan Kenobi. He didn't have the look of one of the survivors on Coruscant, nor the manner. Thinking of the Old Republic Jedi brought memories to mind, but she couldn't place them. It was as if she was suppose to know who this Obi-Wan was... but Jaina couldn't place him. 

She hoped that it was the right thing to bring him to Yavin 4. Jaina wondered about him... he didn't feel like anything she had ever felt in a Jedi... he felt different, in a manner.

If only they had known...


	4. 3: A Clouded Mirror

**Voxenking:** Yes... interesting... mwha-ha-ha-ha-ha... 

**Darth Warious**: Well, I'm trying to get you more Candies of Doom-- really! I've just been busy on the Statrix (posted on , not yet here), one Adrienne and I are co-writing, one Trinity and I are co-writing, and this one... this one being the hardest, as I had to post this chapter without a beta. (sob) 

**IceJayden:** Well... not too far across the galaxy yet... heh.Glad you like it... and as you see, I've finally updated! 

**Audreidi**: Oh, you have no idea... I might even begin throwing curves at you with some of the plots I'm toying with... I'm really sorry about posting this before you could read it, but you were away, and all... sigh... I hope it's as good as the last one, I tried really hard to get it right without your opinion there... you have no idea about the 'interesting' plot lines... for length, is this better? 7 pages in size 12 Verdana font face, double spaced? 

**Molly:** What can I say, there really isn't much... your review impressed me a lot! It's actually because of your review that I went and finished this chapter-- otherwise it probably wouldn't be here right now. Thank you! I emailed you, by the way... 

A.N: This chapter was not beta read, so if it's not as good as the other ones... well, I can redo it, if need be. My beta HAD to be away for a while... sigh... 

Chapter Three 

"Princess Leia!" 

A voice... calling. Padmé did not wonder about that, until the title came to her. _Princess... I am not the only royal person here_. 

She stared at the wreckage around her, wondering what had happened. Definitely was no longer Tatooine that she was on, nor was it like any planet she had been before. So... ruined, so desolate feeling. But yet it was so full of life. Green, vibrant-- the vines, and plants that clustered about the place were very alive. It was a contrast that she was unused to, and found very fascinating. 

"Princess?" 

Suddenly, Padmé got the strangest feeling that she was the only one there, as she turned to face the red-faced man, breathing slightly hard. The two of them met eyes for a moment, as she stared at him, and put on her most stately face. "I am not Princess Leia," she stated, calmly, and slowly. Being the queen of Naboo had learned her hard lessons on being hasty, and rushing right to the point-- this was no moment to become all demanding. 

He studied her face for a moment, and Padmé found herself edging away from his steady gaze, looking at her feet to escape his prying eyes. The eyes weren't right on the shorter, red-faced human, who wore grubby clothes, and looked to have been working fairly hard. But they were there, piercing, and sharp. "So you aren't. Well, you looked like her enough from behind, Miss...?" He had dropped the scrutiny, falling back into the out-of-breath character again, making Padmé wonder if those sharp eyes had even been there. 

"Padmé. I'm Padmé," she answered, peering at him curiously. Something about him tugged at the back of her mind, though she couldn't place it. Alike to the Jedi that had been with them on Tatooine, and yet different. But before she could ask his name, he shook her hand and turned to leave. "Glad you could join us on this rescue mission, Miss Padmé," he said, dashing off. When he spoke like that, it was so different from the scrutiny she had faced earlier, and that left her with so many conclusions to draw from it. 

_Rescue mission?_ she wondered for a moment, looking at the man's slowly disappearing figure, around the tangled mess of vines, and crushed building rubble. Taking the look around cleared up any thoughts she might've had about this being a trap-- the place was certainly messed up enough to need a rescue team. Besides, if it was a rescue mission, there would be no one there from the Trade Federation to bother her, if they were even in this part of the galaxy. 

_And what part of the galaxy _isthis_ part, _she wondered. The place seemed familiar enough, and yet not-- like something she would've seen in a holo-documentary on a natural disaster. Padmé found herself pitying those who had lived there before. _And my people are dying_, she reminded herself savagely. _There is no time to be thinking of destroyed homes on other worlds, I have to get to Coruscant, to face the Senate_. 

Turning, she walked over to where there were a few other people discussing something about this rescue mission. Padmé found herself listening intently to their words, instead of asking where the nearest shuttle flight to Coruscant was. _Yuuzhan Vong? What are they? Some alien race that I did not hear of while learning...?_

But when the second man said something about the destruction of Coruscant, and the Twi'lek with him responded about the "Cursed Vong," in stilted Basic speech, and a few added words in his own language, Padmé found herself stumbling back in shock-- 

Stumbling back as a hawk-bat flew past. And then she knew the truth, though she never would've admitted it. They were on Coruscant. Coruscant without the massive skyscrapers, towers, and places she had seen in holograms. A Coruscant that was destroyed, and left without any answers to her many questions. 

Sitting down on a moss covered piece of ferrocrete, Padmé shook her head, over and over again. 

The strange life-forms... and lack of buildings, merely building rubble. There were just too many questions, and none of them with answers to be held. Was it the Trade Federation? Who, what, and above all else, _why_. 

Why did all this disaster have to happen during her lifetime?

The stars streamed up across the window, drawing into lines of light before they finally vanished into points of nothing-- nothing that could be seen from the cockpit of the _Millennium Falcon_ anyhow. The stars were still there, with their respective planets, alien races, and such, though not all planets were inhabited. In plotting the jump into hyperspace, Han Solo had decided that now would be a good time to return to Yavin 4 and the Jedi Temple, instead of Coruscant. Coruscant, which was where they were suppose to have been at that moment. 

Coruscant was where nearly everyone was, seemingly-- with all the Search and Rescue teams the Republic continued to send out, there was probably representatives for nearly every race in the known galaxy, working to clear Coruscant of survivors. There were many there-- and many looking for them. Han knew that well enough, for Jaina had been with one of the teams sent out with Jedi, in the hopes of sensing sentient life-forms in amongst all the Vong-formed life. The life that created a tangled mess that the non-Jedi eye could not see through, and the Jedi eye could not sense. 

He almost wished that Leia had not insisted that they bring this Anakin to Yavin 4 immediately, but she had her Jedi reasons, he supposed. Jedi reasons, which were quite beyond him. Being a non-Force-sensitive, Han Solo had never truly understood these hunches, and ideas of the Jedi-- though with his wife and children being such he had learned to live with it. 

With all those different races; Imperials and Republic soldiers being on Coruscant, Han assumed that it would get ugly fast. It often did, as he knew well enough, being caught within an Imperial/Republic firefight often enough. Leia wasn't the type to see a little kid in the midst of a fire fight, even one who seemed to be as capable as this Anakin. 

Which was why, at that very moment they were on course towards the fourth moon of Yavin, and not to the Vong-formed Coruscant. Han almost regretted returning to the Jedi Temple, and not going to Coruscant-- not just the fact that his children were there, but he did 

enjoy the action every now and again. 

As if Leia had read his mind, she reached over from the copilot's chair, and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, dear," she said, smiling. "I'm sure you'll see action soon enough." Her smile was warm, and soft; Han quickly found himself returning the smile, and no longer worrying over all the mysteries that were just at the edge of his mind. 

The _Falcon_ streamed through space, stars going past it faster than the eye could see while they were in hyperspace. And, along with the _Falcon_ came mysteries that would take longer than they had to figure out-- mysteries that hadn't even been spotted yet. But they were there, hidden underneath misted veils of fate, and destiny-- shrouded beyond that even the Jedi could perceive. 

Around them, where the eyes could not see, fate worked, and twisted the paths of those meant to change it. And across the galaxy an unseen person smiled. 

Everything was going exactly as it was meant to go. 

"Mara?" 

Luke turned, feeling the Force-signature of his wife enter the room-- a swirling pile of emotions piled into one-- so many thoughts, so much... so much... something was on her mind, and something heavy. The Force streaming off of her was nearly tangible, she was so deep in thought, and so determined. 

"Luke?" 

She crossed the room quickly, her hand resting on her lightsaber unconsciously, and the sunlight glinting off of the red-gold color of Mara's hair. That same sunlight also spread across the quietly talking students, and the others around the room-- spreading a warmth that neither Luke nor Mara felt. 

Though others in the room spoke, there was a complete silence as the two met the glance of the other's eyes. A silence that spoke for itself-- both of them were worried. 

One glance into his wife's eyes told him all he needed to know. "You felt it too?" Luke rose to meet her step, as she came to stand beside him; leaving a half full glass of blue milk on the table, and a cup of very stirred coffee. In his turmoil of thoughts, he had unconsciously been stirring the dark mixture over and over again. It was now cold. As cold as his hands were, and as cold as the thoughts that threatened to overrun his mind. Those same thoughts that pulled away 

from his focus on the Force. 

"Yeah," Mara answered. "You too, Skywalker?" She gestured to his messed up hair, and face. Luke was not exactly the picture of the peaceful, calm Jedi Master-- he looked like any normal human being who hadn't had enough sleep, and was worried. Although, unlike Mara, he was doing a fair job at keeping that unease to himself, and not letting it slip over to the Jedi trainees, all of whom were more easily pulled in by the Darkside. 

Luke smiled slightly. "You seemed to sleep well enough to me." Underneath, there was the implication: 'I didn't feel that I needed to bother you about it.' 

"Well enough isn't good enough," Mara replied, a slight measure of sarcasm slipping into her voice. Then she dropped that, and went straight to the point, her eyes meeting Luke's as she spoke what she thought. "But you're feeling it too-- the darkness..." Mara Jade paused, at a lack of what to describe it as, or merely not wanting to speak it out loud. 

"The Sithly presence?" Luke filled in, understanding well enough. "I was going to come talk to you about it, Mara-- see if you felt it too." 

"Well, I do." Mara's eyes flared up with a sudden frustration that she quickly quelled. Her determination, and feelings were easy enough for Luke to detect. "Some alien creature with the feel of Palpatine touched my mind during meditation-- it's out there in the jungle somewhere, Luke-- I felt it." Mara's eyes were lit with a fierce determination-- not hate, mind you, just determination-- and almost a worry too. Luke must've sensed the anxiety behind the mask of determination, for he set his hand on his wife's shoulder, and, looking into her eyes said softly: "Don't worry, we'll be fine." 

"Easy enough for you to say." 

"I'm not just saying it, Mara, I'm knowing it." 

But to say such things was different than knowing it. For, though Luke might've had such confidence now, they would soon grow to see otherwise. As the course of things began to slowly weave themselves, and times began to change, they would know; they would learn. The Darkside was clouding their visions, and the way they interpreted the Force-- the way the strange feeling came to them was no longer the truth. If they could've just looked beyond that which they seen, it would've been there, right before them, the hidden meanings that haunted them. But for now the truth could not be told, or seen, even by the wisest of all living Jedi Masters. 

What was the truth, but that which went unspoken between the two of them. They both had a very bad feeling about this, and a rightful one too. 

After the silence between them had grown to heavy, Mara looked into Luke's thoughtful blue eyes. "What are we going to do?" she asked softly, sounding different-- more quiet. 

"We go for a walk," Luke answered, taking Mara's arm. 

A young Anakin Skywalker sat in the back of the _Falcon_ thinking quietly to himself. There had been an awful lot of happenings over the last few days-- winning the podrace, finding out that he was to be freed-- best of all, being taken by the Jedi to Coruscant. That had always been one of his dreams-- to grow up and become a Jedi, to see the galaxies, and to get rid of slavery. His dreams were rarely wrong-- _those_ dreams. The dreams that were brought on by his strange powers-- the powers that the Jedi used. 

He remembered the dreams about Padmé-- seeing her leading a battle into army, and the dream that he would marry her. He was sure he would, even if she was only a queen, and he was only a little boy. But he would become a Jedi-- and a Jedi and a Queen could get married, couldn't they? 

But his latest dream had been strange-- Anakin didn't understand it. There was a man in black, black robes, mask, and cloak. He had the same feel as the Jedi did-- the power. He also had a crimson lightsaber. At his side was another person, the man who had attacked the Jedi Qui-Gon. And with them there were many other people, also with a dark feel. He was there, along with the lady Leia, and another man-- one with light brown hair, and blue eyes. He was peaceful, and somewhat scared. Anakin was behind him-- and he was confused. Something was pulling him to the dark men. He has seen another woman-- determined, and fierce in her looks. Her hair was bright red. 

The two sides had pulled at him-- the peaceful man with blue eyes, and the dark men-- the ones with black cloaks, and red laser swords. Anakin was confused, and torn, but he didn't know why. 

Later on, when he had waken up, he had been covered in sweat, and panicked. Something about the dream that he couldn't remember pulled at him-- something about the peaceful man, and something more about himself. He couldn't remember what had happened though, and it scared him. 

Anakin shivered, and not just because of the chill in space. Leia had given him a blanket before they had went into hyperspace, but he was still cold. And not just because of the chill that filled the emptiness of space, but because of the haunting airs to his dreams. Because of the things he didn't understand. 

The woman called Leia-- she was pretty. Anakin found himself thinking about Padmé when he looked at her-- an older Padmé. He almost wondered if Leia could be Padm's mother-- they looked enough alike, and they acted a lot alike. Anakin liked her, liked the way she acted. He also liked the other one too-- Han Solo, It was almost like Han could've been the father he had never had. 

Pulling himself closer into the blanket, Anakin stared out the windows at the black nothingness of space. Something was out there, but what? He knew one thing, and that was that his destiny was out there, among the stars hidden by the speed of light travel. 

But out in space there was more than just destiny than waited, but a future so heavy that no one would ever see it coming... a future that was only hinted at in the visions of Force-sensitive people. 

In other parts of the galaxy, other people began to see things that made them wonder somewhat, but none of them were able to piece together the puzzle that had been handed to them. 

In the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, Master Yoda was jerked out of meditation at a sudden, and very strong disturbance in the Force. And when he reached back in to locate this disturbance all he found, along with many other Jedi across the galaxy was nothingness. 

The Force had closed its doors. 

Mwha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!!!! My first cliffie!!! This probably will not be updated until I'm back from camp-- 15th or so. Sorry... sigh.


	5. 4: Panic

To my DEAR reviewers...:

X-Smasher 3: Heheh.... yes, I checked it out. Thanks for your review. Post your story on my site...? You JOINED, after all...

Anchente: Hi, fellow JNeter!! Uhh... Darthe! HI! Heh. I'm glad you love my idea... original... yes... yes, I will update on JNet... someday. Heh.

Audreidi: I can't escape you, dear Master, can I. I KNOW you want longer chapters, but I'm kinda busy on LotG, you know... LIVE WITH IT. Uhh... at the time of your review, no I wasn't anywhere near done this chapter. I'm sorry this one is so short too.... but it's interesting, right? /cackle/ I'm sorry that it moves so fast. And I'm sorry I have to apologize so much... yes, overly picky because you know me. I'll TRY for a longer chapter next time. Maybe I'll actually be inspired, this one is only posted to satisfy impatient peoples. Plot twists are coming up.......... PH34R THE PLOT BUNNY!!!!!!

Smenzer: REVIEWED BY ONE OF MY FAV AUTHORS! AWESOMENESS!! /grins/ Thanks for reviewing. Uhh... the time travel stuff will be explained in due time. No spoilers for anyone, not even my betas.... heh. And Jaina was merely tired, that's why she didn't recognize the name. Little details.... fun. I need to write more of them, so that AUDREIDI is happy with my chapter lengths. Leia will discover that, yes. And yes, Palpy will be in the story as well. Just... no comment why or how.

* * *

Chapter Four

The familiar feel of being in outer space came quickly to Obi-Wan as Jaina pulled their ship into hyperspace. Her style of flying had a very dare-devilish feel to him-- the style that made him dislike flying even more than he already did. Obi-Wan never exactly had appreciated heights, and flying-- the dare-devil style made him dislike it even more. 

The other occupant of the ship smiled quirkily, and set his hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "You should see her fly against the Vong-- now that's scary." Obi-Wan found himself wondering what, exactly, these Vong were-- he was sure he had heard more than one mention of them while they had decided who would go with whom-- that was when Jaina had brought him back to the ships. Confusion was nearly at the point that he wanted to ask a million questions, wanted to know what had happened to Tatooine, wanted to know where Qui-Gon was... 

He had almost been in a trance, leaving the planet behind-- now he was confused. Jaina hadn't felt evil, but he had been confused, and disoriented. Appearing on a jungle planet after being on Tatooine wasn't exactly an everyday occurence. 

Obi-Wan felt quite at ease with the other occupant-- presumably this Jaina's brother; they looked similar enough, anyhow, to be related. He looked him up and down-- this one was probably also a Jedi, he had the wisdom showing in his eyes of a Jedi Master, Obi-Wan found himself thinking, as he looked him over. _He seems so young, merely a Padawan, but looks to have withstood the trials of a grown man_. There was something not quite right about him, but Obi-Wan couldn't place it. Something little that should've seemed almost wrong, but he wasn't catching it, though it whisped at the back of his mind. 

Then they were safely in hyperspace, and Jacen-- for that was who it was-- took a closer look at Obi-Wan. "Jacen Solo," he introduced himself, holding out his hand. 

Obi-Wan took his hand, though slightly hesitantly, and shook. "Obi-Wan Kenobi." 

By the almost shadowed expression that suddenly reflected on Jacen's face, there was obviously more to that name then Obi-Wan knew. It was an expression of disbelief, sudden mistrust... but all that was swiftly gone-- too quickly for Obi-Wan to latch onto it. Jacen threw a slight glance over at his sister, but she didn't notice it, concentrating on her piloting at the moment. In answer to the unasked question, Jacen commented, "Our uncle Luke knew an Obi-Wan Kenobi once-- he was his first master, back on Tatooine. But he was killed by Darth Vader at the height of the Rebellion, is all." His face was impassive, not revealing a thing about his thoughts on that. Inside... _Now, that's very interesting..._ Jacen Solo found himself thinking over the possibilities of it being the same Obi-Wan. 

The strange appearance, and seeming Jedi-like bearings, when yet Jacen didn't recognize him at all. He narrowed his eyes just slightly, and observed the slightly confused-- Jedi?-- who was attempting to get his bearings after entering hyperspace. 

Obi-Wan nodded, not understanding a word Jacen meant. He shivered at the mention of Darth Vader-- the name gave him the chills, though he didn't know why-- something whispered to him through the Force... it was the Force that was causing him to react to the name. Something in the future. He recalled Qui-Gon instructing him to be mindful of the Living Force not too long ago-- and yet it seemed so long ago. "That's... very interesting," he commented quietly, holding back his true thoughts, and questions for the moment. "A Sith Lord, then," he added, even softer. Were the Sith making a return? But, no... they couldn't be... their flame had been removed from the galaxy long ago. They couldn't be! 

Jacen shook himself out of a sudden trance he seemed to fall into. "So, you're a Jedi too?" he asked, more a statement than a question, however. Obi-Wan noted that Jacen evaded the comment of Sith quite easily, as if he didn't want to talk about it. 

"Yes... well, I'm a Jedi Apprentice, anyhow," Obi-Wan corrected. "My master is Qui-Gon Jinn." He took a deep breath, let it go, trying to remove the tention that was growing within him. If the Sith were making a comeback... 

Jacen shook his head, the name meant nothing to him. "Yeah, so you two were on Coruscant to help with the rescue mission too, then?" 

This young Jedi's questions bothered Obi-Wan slightly-- they were shrewd, and made him really have to think to come up with an answer, well all the while seeming innocent, and making him wonder whether they weren't just harmless questions. But why did he feel the need to evade the deeper questions? It wasn't like Jacen was evil-- merely another Jedi Padawan like himself-- he was sure of it. 

What did this Jacen know, anyhow? 

"No, we were on Tatooine, headed back to Coruscant from a mission on Naboo," Obi-Wan answered automatically. Then what he had just said connected to Jacen's words, and he jerked slightly. "Coruscant... we were on Coruscant?" _I was just on Tatooine! And, by the Force, what _did_ happen to Qui-Gon..._

The question was immediately regretted as soon as he said it-- it was obviously a blunder, and something he should've known. The very dark expression that flitted across Jacen's face, and the look Jaina's eyes took on just then proved that. 

"No, you were on Dagobah," Jaina answered sarcastically. She scoffed. "Where else did you think you were, Kenobi? What other planet was completely Vong-formed to look like their alleged homeplanet?" 

Obi-Wan shook his head, a response to the impossible things they were saying. As if denying it would fix what had just happened. "That's not Coruscant." _What in the galaxy... no Jedi I know would intentionally lie like that! Why would they? I mean... that can't be Coruscant. It must be a mistake._He brought up images of the closest thing he had to a homeplanet-- majestic skyscrapers, all the people, the buildings that stretched all the way down, and around, the metal, the lack of green... the whole planet was large city. "It can't be..." He voiced his growing throughts under a quiet statement... a near whisper. It said enough-- the horror at what would've happened to turn Coruscant into a jungle was beyond his thoughts, and he hated to even think of what person could do such a thing. "It can't be." Again, a whisper. 

"Well, it is the truth-- what rock have you been hiding under?" That was Jaina, once again with a sarcastic comment. Jacen said nothing, but looked at him with a sharp gaze, as if he could see beneath Obi-Wan's cover. Obi-Wan was once again struck by this Jacen-- how he seemed so wise for such a young age. His attention was momentarily brought to something he had noticed earlier, but given no thought to-- or a lack of something. Jacen did not wear a braid. _Jedi Knight?_ he wondered. _He's so young._ The eyes Jacen wore were anything but young-- eyes that showed hardship, darkness, and grief. The same things which were now slipping into Obi-Wan's heart, and mind. A shadow. It's all... wrong. He closed his eyes for almost a moment, reaching out with the Force... searching... 

_Qui-Gon!_

He shook his head. _No..._

There. It flickered, and he rocognized his Master's signature, albeit distantly. Alive, though, and not in any trouble. Obi-Wan didn't think the Qui-Gon was sensing him, however, but he stiffled the panic for the sake of the moment. 

"I grew up on Coruscant, I should know my own planet," Obi-Wan replied sharply. That cannot be Coruscant. Who would've done that to the planet in such sort a time? He stood up, muttered a brief excuse and walked to the back of the ship. Jacen watched him go-- let him be for a while, as Jaina muttered something about people who refused to accept the truth. 

While Obi-Wan's thoughts reflected a sudden darkness, and a panic beyond anything he had ever felt, Jacen's were of a sudden questioning feel... that there was something that just did not add up to this moment._ Obi-Wan Kenobi..._ He formed the same words as Obi-Wan had, silently, but with a different meaning. _It can't be..._

Jacen stood up as well, then. "You're all right up here, Jaina... I'm going to talk to our new... friend." He spoke quietly, but narrowed his eyes. "Something doesn't feel quite right here." He left his twin in the cockpit, and walked down to the back, where Obi-Wan sat, staring dully at the wall. He didn't even glance up as Jacen entered the room silently, like a shadow crossing the wall. When the young Jedi sat down beside him, Obi-Wan looked over at him, his eyes glazed over with a shadow that hid panic, fear, and many, many questions. 

"I think you have some explaining to do." One simple statement, and spoken calmly-- but in it, Jacen felt everything that Obi-Wan felt-- the anger, frusteration, and panic. He had felt the same way-- but had understood. Jacen had nearly killed what would become the planet's mind ((In Traitor))-- and he felt similar emotions pouring from Obi-Wan. 

Jacen turned to face him, his eyes dark. "We both have explaining to do, Obi-Wan Kenobi... you as much as I." But he began to tell the tale of Coruscant's fall with ease.

* * *

If two and two could be put together, then Padmé would've put them together, But there was no logical explanation to what had happened-- to what was going on. Coruscant was a planet she had never been to-- not in a long while-- but the wost that could've happened was that it grew bigger. The Trade Federation worked with machines... if they would've taken over the capital planet, they wouldn't've turned it to a jungle-like place. 

Indeed, it was beautiful, she had to admit. Much fairer to look upon than the previous metal, and unnatural buildings. Now there were flowers, vines, and water to behold-- when one looked around the rubble that was there as well. If she did not know the planet to be Coruscant, she could've been happy there for a while. But, knowing the truth made her see nothing but destruction, feel nothing but anger. 

_All the people that must've died... or did people die? _Padmé was quite confused, not to mention panicked as well. If someone could ruin Coruscant in that little of time, then what could they do to Naboo-- to her people? 

The young queen was a compassionate person by nature: seeing what the Trade Federation was doing to her planet caused her frustration. She had hated to leave them there, though going to the Senate seemed the only answer. But there would be no help on a ruined planet-- with Coruscant Bio-formed, she realized, there would be no help for Naboo. 

She traced pictures on the ground absentmindedly. _Where are the Jedi? What will they say when they see this? Coruscant was as much a home planet to them as they could've had..._Padmé would've denied the destruction, but it was too in her face to ignore. 

Nothing added up. She sat there for a long while, thinking over what had happened. But there was no way that this could've happened by any means she could think of. It had only been a short while since the last transmission she had received from Coruscant on Naboo-- the bio-forming of the planet would've taken a lot longer than that time allowed for. No one had mentioned an entire planet's destruction when she spoke with Coruscant last-- that was not something easily forgotten. 

And yet, the planet looked as if it had been formed such a long time ago-- long enough that most of the rubble from the endless city was covered. It has to be another planet. Maybe another planet has hawk-bats.In her heart she knew that was not the case. It was too much like to Coruscant to escape it. Anger welled up within, as well as tears for those who would've died in the attack. How anyone could destroy so much was beyond her. 

An unnatural warmth was felt on her cheek, and Padmé realized, as she looked up at the sky, that she was crying softly. And not too far away from her, someone watched the young queen, devastated, angered, and a bitter torrent of emotions. 

Once again, things went as planned.

* * *

There was a place, outside of time, outside or space, outside of light and darkness. A place where there was only the Force. Or, in all truthfulness, that is how it had been. Now there was a person there, a person that was neither dark nor light, living, nor dead. No, there were more people than that, but only one who looked upon the world with such hate. 

_Hate leads to the darkside..._

Shadows existed here, darkness, and fear. The pain of death, and nothing beyond that until all faded away. Mist and shadows... this world was the realm of such. It was not a world, though, merely a place. And not even a place, for it was nothing. It was a space between the world and that which held it together-- a place where there was nothing but shadows. 

The person in there was a shadow-- a shadow with dark goals, and dark means to achieve them. In life, which had been so long ago that he could not remember it clearly, he could've taken care of such things with the help of others. But trapped in a darkness that could not be escaped, and yet was not fully dark, there was no way but through his own means-- and the help of those who-- unknowingly-- followed him. 

Divided they would fall, and darkness take all the worlds. In the confusion that already began to happen, the darkness would move in and begin its slow covering of all worlds. And then his strike would come, swift and fast, as sure as the darkness that covered his realm. 

There was a scale that balanced all the worlds, and one by one it had began to tip... to fall into the arms of destiny.

* * *

Qui-Gon woke up, and found a sense of relief to being on the ship they had left Naboo on. He did wonder why he had-- seemingly-- fainted, however. 

His sense of relief faded, though, when he realized that the ship was still on Tatooine, and Obi-Wan was not there. The lack of heat he had felt disappeared, and the full scorching heat of Tatooine came back to him. He looked around, searching for something-- and even more of his relief faded into darkness. "Obi-Wan?" he asked, standing up and looking around. 

Everything looked normal-- as normal as Tatooine could be, more. It was scorching hot, and as light as it had been a moment before, when he had been fighting the Sith-- 

_The Sith!_

"Padawan? Anakin?" If he didn't know better, it was as if no one was there. The ship was there behind him, but no one was aboard it... where was Obi-Wan? Reaching through the training bond he felt-- nothing. 

Nothing?! 

"Anakin?!" The handmaiden... what about her? "Padmé?" 

He almost panicked, and then realised that he was well justifyed for panicking. Had the Sith carted off Obi-Wan, and Anakin, and Padmé, and everyone else while he had been unconscious. For that matter, why was I unconscious...? 

And then there was one more realisation that struck him like a brick dropped from a rooftop on Coruscant. I can't feel anyone. As if the Force had left him completely. The Jedi could still feel the basic area, and he felt sure that he could use the Force to levitate things, and other basics, but it was as if he was a Padawan once more. It's there, toying with my senses, but I can't grab it. All the old connections... gone. 

And what happened to Obi-Wan?!

* * *

_A/N: WARNING TO ANYONE WHO MIGHT'VE FORGOTTEN: THIS STORY IS VERY, VERY AU STARTING ABOUT NOW!!!! _


	6. 5: Something More

To my loyal reviewers (hint, poke)

**Smenzer: **Who would've liked it when they destroyed Coruscant? I sure didn't... grumble. But we live with it, I think. Think. Yeah. Yeah, feel sorry for Obi-Wan. Feel VERY sorry for him. Snrk. I hate to say it, but you were wrong. Since you emailed me about your ideas. No crossovers today... as for Qui-Gon... well... you'll see. (grins)

**Lena Breeze: **Thank you for reviewing me! Well, you'll see how it unfolds. I separated everyone for a reason, of course...

**Master Darth Warious: **A bit contradicting, your title there, sis. Yes, I updated. Heh heh...

**Darth Zelthia: **I touched you with the crying Padmé scene? Aww... I'm touched. Heh. This story's point is NOT to see how the characters react, mind you, that's just a side point that amuses me greatly. I have a plot here.

**Molly: **My biased beta/fanfic Master. Snrk. Egads, yes, I'm glad that I can even freak you out, considering you beta for me. Well, hopefully I'll be able to freak you out in coming chapters, not this one. This one you've read most of already. None of the characters have any IDEA what I'm up to... I'm tempted to reveal some of it to you, mind you, but that's about it. Heh. (hugs) Thanks for replying so soon to this chapter update, considering I hadn't updated you for about 4 months. But I did add some stuff since your last update...

**Audreidi: **I know that Jacen's too stable. I can't help that. I could probably send the Obi/Jacen scenes to you, but you really are lacking time, I know. Sigh. I'll work on resolving it. But not Obi-Wan's panic. Nu-uh. He has to panic. Look at what the poor man's going through! We've both very influenced on our main stories by LotG, my dear Master. (shrugs) Can't help that. It gets worse... look who's making an appearance into this chapter. (evil grin) Hope you like this chapter. You don't know HOW often I kept going back on Jacen's name after I called him Jether by mistake, you realize. YOU'VE RUINED ME. Heh. I keep wanting to write him as Jether's character rather than Jacen... I find it amusing, actually. Odd that Jaina stays Jaina and not Maei. You always bugged me about my chapter length... this one long enough for you? (cough9pagescough)

**Mistress of Parchment: **(sarcastically) No. I'm not going to continue ever again. What's this update look like to you, sister? Snrk. Sorry. Here's an update, hope you like it.

* * *

Chapter Five 

Familiar underbrush, trees, and woods littered the area around the Jedi Temple. Luke stepped into it, and all possible fears melted away into a peace that came from that familiarity, and comprehension.

Nothing to worry about...

But it was there, and he knew it. He was only trying to convince himself of that perfection. Deep down within himself, he knew there was something wrongdeeply, and completely wrong. Things of paradoxal nature oft were like that, though the Jedi Master had no clue what was truly going on.

Something small could destroy them without a moment's thought.

He breathed in deeply, breathing in the temporary calm that was there, letting himself take it in, become the peace...

Mara standing beside him, hand on lightsaber, jerked Luke out of the peace that had for a moment surrounded him. As always, the Jedi Master to see peace and calm in a situation that could completely cause the galaxy to crumble. And he remembered why they were out there. _If there's Sith once more..._

_...Then why haven't we sensed them before? Were we that lax?_

"Anything?" he asked Mara in a low voice. She was standing slightly in front of him now, scanning the trees and underbrush with both eyes and the Force.

She shook her head sharply, eyes reflecting the order to be quiet, along with a grimness he had not seen in a long while. Grimness overshadowed with a faint fear for what could happen if the Sith returned. It was a hint of what she must've been like years ago in her days as the Emperor's Handa reminder of what she was like when they had just met.

Someone far darker than she was now. He shivered from the damp feel of death through the Force, his memories, the chill damp of the jungle air penetrating his clothing andcausing a physical chill.

The area was still familiar completely... he knew it as well as he knew his own X-wing, yet it didn't seem so peaceful any longer.

It was disturbing to think that he had not noticed the presence of the darkside on the now or, at least, for now peaceful Jedi Temple. Though the Jedi Master was unaware of the fact that this was a completely new happening, that the Sith had come from a past into a window of time that was alternate against what he had grown up in, it still bothered him.

It was a challenge to not think that it was his fault. Yet the Jedi were so few, how could've they noticed? They had been so tied up with the nonexistant within the Force Yuuzhan Vong.

_Perhaps somehow they have only just came into being? Perhaps somehow it was akin to our last challenge, elusive to the Force itself?_

He didn't know.

Luke shook his head hard, clearing himself from the thoughts. He didn't know what would happen now. The whole strange feelings throughout the Force reverberated in his mind. He shivered. There was something else out there...

_Something more than the Force?_

And he couldn't grasp it, though it was there.

It felt like some child had built up the New Republic now, looking at it through the Force. One block pulled out, one small holo deactivated, and the entire thing would fall into little pieces. And something more was out there. The big bad Tusken raider from little stories as a child. He felt like the little lost bantha who couldn't find his home.

Something felt wrong with the Force. Everything seemed so off balance, like someone would push it over.

The domino effect of dark reactions was already beginning, though he couldn't see what the catalyst was that had brought it to that point once more.

They couldn't let that one stone fall. Not now. Not after they had just unburied themselves from the previous collapses. _We don't have enough Jedi to protect this New Republic. Even if we would be accepted by all_.

He reached out, _felt_ the area, felt for the dark mind Mara had found. He completely trusted her thereknew she would never joke about such a thing. _Something_ had to be there...

Broadening his reach, Luke closed his eyes, following a resolved Mara into the jungle using nothing but the Force to guide him along after her. She could sense this, led him slower than normal as to not crash into anything. But he couldn't find the dark presence. Oh, there was everything else he was used to: the trees, and life that lived on the forth moon of Yavin, the feel of the reconstructed Jedi Temple there, all those who lived within. Everything felt alive and full of light. There was nothing he could find that was dark.

A ripple of uncertainty, and a sudden rift in the Force. He halted his search of the area, reaching deeper...

Then he was hit with a very familiar presence... almost. _Almost?_

He froze.

Luke's eyes snapped open, a blue ice in the green shadows, and he drew in a sharp breath. Time almost slowed, his breath making a sharp thunderclap in the half-peace of jungly calm. Then the colors of the area struck him, too rich they seemed, too bright, and the light hit him easily.

He blinked. Nothing was out of place. Nothing but the one presence...

Another thing that could bring down a mountaina storm, he almost reminded himself. _A storm dark enough to destroy the entirety of the Old Republic's Jedi, and leave me the lone heir to that power._

Mara turned around at his sudden halt, looking back in front of her to nearly crash into a tree. They were no longer so quiet, but something strange in Luke's eyes made her want to stop and ask. So she did. "What do you sense?" she asked quickly, quietly, all senses suddenly alert, a bright light in the Force. She dropped her hand to her lightsaber. The light in her eyes was far from pleasant, though reassuring. _If it's an enemy..._

Luke's eyes were startled, he seemed as if flash frozen to the spot. When he found his voice again around the lump that seemed to have suddenly formed in his throat, his voice was hoarse, as if he hadn't drank for days. He seemed terrified.

"No. It's not true." A whispered statement, terror from dreams that had plagued him for the longest time after Cloud City...

"What's not true?" Mara asked, prompting him gently. When Luke refused to make an answer, eyes colored with fear she walked over to him, placing arms around his neck, and staring him straight in the eye. "Do I have something on my face?" she asked glibly.

Luke forced a faint smile. The humor seemed wrong coming from his wife, so on alert that she looked to be standing on the edge of a knife. But he couldn't force anymore words from his mouth, standing there as if he had been struck by lightning.

Mara stared at him, a strange look on her face. "Luke? Luke?"

He suddenly smiled, a face half through grief, and hugged her tightly. "I'm going crazy," he mumbled. "That's all."

She wanted to tear the truth from him, wanted to beat him over the head, but instead sank into his embrace. "It'll be all right."

* * *

He was cold. And not just from the chill of space. Sure, space _was_ cold, and Anakin did admit that, as he shivered, half awake. But the chill he felt was not from that. It was deeper, darker. 

The darkside is as cold as any day on Hoth, but unlike the chill from the snow it is not so lightly banished.

_It's looking for me_, he thought, shuddering. And he didn't even know what it was that sought him.

But it was there. Somewhere. Somehow, it knew he was here. It knew who he was.

As a child, he had feelings sometimes. He still did. He'd know what was going to happen a moment before it happened, he'd know that he was in trouble a moment before Watto came after him, he'd know...

Just like he knew he would leave Tatooine someday. Just like he had dreamed of being a Jedi, and now that dream seemed so far away, and yet so close. Just beyond his grasp, and yet so far away that not even a Jedi could grasp it with the Force.

Anakin had the strangest feeling that something completely beyond him was happening and yet, it was something that was completely about him too. _My eyes_, he thought to himself. _The Jedi has my eyes_. Blue eyes glazed with ice, that tore through his soul.

He didn't know where it had came from, but it was there. That thought in his mind, toying with him. He didn't want to go back to sleep. It hurt to sleep and see such strange things in his dreams. Seeing the darkness that was always there.

And it seemed just all too easy to grasp.

It grabbed him as usual, pulling him into the uneasy dreams of an untrained Jedi. The future was always in motion, but that didn't mean what he seen was not truth. It _could_ happen, but that didn't mean it _would_ happen. And this time it was different.

As if everything was wrong, as if they were following a path that lead far away from everything he ever knew. And somehow, he didn't think it was because of the change that was happening, being taken from Tatooine.

It was just _different_. Unsettling.

Twin suns rose across a horizon changed by time, years, and battle... a flash. _Qui-Gon?_

Now he was falling... falling into a fire that nearly consumed him.

Anakin froze, cold beyond belief, though the dream self was crying out from the pain of the consuming flames that flickered around him, grabbing at his cloak, and burning it into small pieces. He ripped it off, trying to escape drowning in flame.

_...I'm older..._

Someone grabbed him a moment before his fall.

_...he's familiar..._

There were three people... again the person with his eyes, and two others. Anakin had the impression that he was floating above both darkness and flame.

_...who are they?..._

The Force filled in for him. The one was Obi-Wan. The one who had saved him.

_...I didn't think he'd save me..._

But he didn't know who the others were. One was a black robed person, akin to the alien who had attacked them back on Tatooine. Anakin still had no name for the blue-eyed man. A child's notice of one small thing: Obi-Wan no longer wore the braid he had last time Anakin had seen him.

_...and I have a lightsaber!..._

He fought with the dream, trying to escape it. Not being able to hear what was going on, it still held him fast in its web. Not letting go, but not letting him see it all.

Two people burst into the dark room the Jedi Qui-Gon closely followed by a red-haired woman. Her eyes were a jade flame, but they showed relief at seeing... someone. Anakin didn't know who, though his dream self did. He shouted something, but again, it was silent.

He was still in midair though. A startled Obi-Wan dropped him from the Force-hold, and he caught himself before falling into the flames again.

Then everything happened at once; an explosion from the flames, two lightsabers hissed to existence, Obi-Wan was falling backwards...

And Anakin was freed from the dream suddenly; sitting up sharply, his head snapping back into the wall. "Master!" he cried, not knowing where the name came from. Then it completely let go of him, he was the ten year old boy from Tatooine once more.

Then the ship came from hyperspace, he could feel it rattle as it dropped from lightspeed into normal space. Inwardly, he wished he could take a look at how it was put together, just to see how it was done, and how the pilot kept it from falling apart in spaceapart from the obvious space tape, he was certain.

He stood up, shivering from the memory of the dream, though the memory all too quickly faded from his memory into the shadows of his mind. He still felt cold to the core.

* * *

As if it all were too normal to think of... 

"We know little of the time during the Purge from any Jedi's perspective, but many Imperial supporters who lived during that time, and other information sources were able to tell us what happened. Lord Vader, after turning against the Jedi, set out to erase the Jedi from the galaxy. The Emperor Palpatine declared all Jedi to be enemies of the Republic...

"Slowly, they were all killed by the Sith until all who remained were..." Jacen paused. "Master Yoda, Vergere, and... you."

Obi-Wan did not comment. Silent blue eyes burning into Jacen's. Jacen felt very cold, very scrutinized, as if Obi-Wan was attempting to read through his soul, yet understand the whole tale. He continued.

"Vader had two children, my mother, Leia Organa-Solo, and Master Luke Skywalker. Leia had been placed into the protection of Bail Organa, and adopted by them, while Luke was left in the care of his aunt and uncle on Tatooine..."

* * *

Cold... 

_How can you be cold on a desert planet?_

Fear...

_It's leading to the Darkside._

Anger...

_No._

Qui-Gon closed his eyes. _Obi-Wan..._

_My Padawan can't be dead_. Inwardly he knew this, he claimed this. _Obi-Wan can't be dead. Not now. Not with the Sith returning. Not..._

He raked his fingers through his hair absentmindedly, pausing only for a moment when his left hand found itself stuck in amidst a tangled mess of uncombed and greasy hair. He wondered how long it had been since he had washed his hair properly, but that was the only realization he had of the nervous gesture.

He was afraid.

He reached out further into the Forcethe Force that was no longer there. Well, it was, and it wasn't. It was almost hazy though, and he had the oddest feeling that if he were in the Core, the Force would be gone. The disturbance centered around that, around everything that _wasn't_. His feet refused to hold him up with that realization. He sat down heavily on the nearest solid object that wasn't the grainy sand of Tatooine, or well heated rocks that had been out in the duo-powered sunlight all day. Those would be like miniature ovens, small frying pans meant to burn the feet and tender bottoms of any unfortunate sentients who wandered by, although unintentional on the behalf of the rocks.

Though a well trained Jedi Master, he could scarcely focus on everything that enveloped himemotions overriding peace for a moment, and then the whole focus of the moment taking over again.

It was twisted.

_Centered around _what

He had to admit to being more confused than he had ever been, even as a Padawan. He knew Obi-Wan had to be alive, he knew the Sith was alive. He knew it was oddly quiet. And familiar.

He stood up. He didn't realize he had sat down, but standing up was a relief. It cut through him, and forced him to face the brutal reality. The Force fed him no information of what was happening. He was disconcerted by the brutal reality that if this carried on, he would be helpless. Most of the Jedi would be helpless.

_We rely on the Force as little children on our parents... to have it ripped away..._

Reaching down for a second to shake sand out of his left boot with a muttered curse, he looked up at the sky, which was growing remarkably dimmer, even with the two suns overhead. There was scuffling sounds from within the ship he was still beside. He had sat down on the ramp leading up into the access tubes without any thought. Even without a proper focus, he could tell those within were frantic.

And he had to remind himself of what was going on. The Jedi Master dashed aboard the ship, looking around it. It seemed almost empty, yet everyone was there, running around in circles, like a vrelt with its tail on fire. The lack of sense from the Force was far too confusing.

Nearly tripping over the R2 unit, he attempted to get out of the rush of peoplethough there were no more than ten or so aboardall of them seemed to have one common thought. _What the hell happened to our queen! _Even though this wasn't much of a vocal expression, it was in the Naboo people's eyes.

He had to echo it, albeit silently, while seeking a center point. _Where on Kessel is my Padawan, and what the hell happened to him!_

Qui-Gon closed his eyes, taking a breath, and attempting to run through an old Jedi calming technique, even without the Force. Normally completely calm, focused on the living Force... but theForce wasn't there.It was hardly effective, he was still in knots inside, wanted to scream, wanted to run away... _All this centers around something..._

* * *

Coruscant, the jewel of the galaxy, the center of everything the Republic stood for. Just the name awoke images in countless sentients across the galaxy of one thing, unless they had been hiding in a rock for generations. 

Coruscant.

Just to hear that name, one would think of the planet, the world that was the linchpin to everything that happened, the unnatural glisten of buildings that went deeper than any sunlight could reach, no matter how bright the star. A world that's upper levels glistened with brilliant light, and that's lower levels were covered in shadows, a living hell to even a Jedi.

Coruscant.

Based on the corusca jewels by name, it was easy to see how some sentient being, somewhere in the mists of the galaxy could've named it such. It was indeed a jewel, in appearance, brilliance reflecting off of ferrocrete and plasisteel walls, roofs of multiple forms of bricks, metals, and other creations of a technology based world.

Home of the Senate, the Jedi Council, everything that their galaxy was founded upon: the decisions, the changes, later on the Empire that would try their every belief, every moral, and everything any respectable person with morals clung to. Coruscant, the Imperial City, the capital city of both the Old Republic and the Empire.

The balance point that could be tilted to destroy everything.

It was strange to think how one world, so centered around technology, would be chosen by the Jedi Council as their base, their center point for a Temple. When their beliefs were all focused on the Force, on life, it seems impossible to realize why they had chosen Coruscant, rather than another world, more alive than the dead hunk of rock that was covered in metal. But if one was to look deeper into the Jedi beliefs, to see it as a search deeper into the centerpoint of humanity, if such a term fit in an order made up of as many aliens as there were humans, you would understand why.

For Coruscant, the two rocks balanced on a scale that could determine everything that would happen in the future by one shift, was as much a centerpoint as anyone could've dreamed possible, besides the Force itself. Even without true life, it was still crucial for the galaxy... as were the Jedi.

However, at present, sixty-five years before the time after the Vong Wars, the Jedi were anything but linchpins, crucial protectors of the galaxy, and calm, peaceful beings who meditated on peace and harmony when not saving the galaxy from disaster. No, they were anything but _calm_, as thousands of Jedi Masters struggled to regain control over the Jedi Templesome worried about the other Jedi across the galaxy on missions from anything to cabbage disputes on Alderaan, to gang control on Ord Mantell, to retrieval of a Black Sun warlord on Borleias.

The Force had vanished, and they were left nearly as helpless as the remainder of the non-Force-sensitive beings across the galaxy who were unaware of the crises that had befallen the exalted Jedi, Masters of the Force and its ways. Of course, they still had years of training to fall back on, even without the guiding hand of the omnipresent energy field known as the Force, and other skills to back them. The most dangerous part of the situation was attempting to calm the younger Jedi, mostly first and second year Padawans, and the crechéling aged children, ranging from 2 to fourteen, as many were confused by the lack of presence.

With the chaos unfolding within, it was little wonder that the complete disappearance of a few known Jedi, and other people very tied into the present happenings, had gone unseen, and unfelt by all.

I should not say completely, for there were those who had noticedthose whose goal had _been_ to notice. But they did not count, most of them, for at the present the plot circles around the happenings of the now and then. Yet there were a couple Jedi who, unnoticing to the complete chaos around them, even if they were a part of it did realize the absence of two Jedi, a Tatooine slave boy, a queen, and a Sith. One, of course, was the esteemed Jedi Master Yoda, but the other three were unknown to the canonthe first being a newly Knighted human female named Dia Ryshuu Calthye, a male Jedi Master called J'thwa Niathan Kyrae, and his Padawan, who most called Chade, but her full name was Cy'ladeialan Flaiya Aldosdaughter. Cy'ladeianlan had been born on Myrkr, away from the Force, and later on retrieved at the age of two by a scout team. Though her skills weren't particular in anything, she did have one ability, a tie to a darker side of things, and that was to recognize death when she seen it.

Kyrae had taken her as an apprentice at a the age of twelve. After a few days of stumbling through all eleven syllables of her name, not to mention the three syllable title of Padawan that went beforehand, Kyrae had shortened her name to Chade.

Padawan Cy'ladeialan Flaiya Aldosdaughter hadn't minded being retitled Padawan Chade in the least.

However, it is Dia Ryshuu Calthye whom we are concerned with at the moment, and it shall be Dia who we meet. She was a relatively short Jedi, with a friendly face, and a preference to wearing remarkably strange clothing colors merely for the sake of it. She had dark eyes, and straw colored hair with silver streaks, even though she was only in her mid twenties.

And she didn't know Obi-Wan Kenobi or Qui-Gon Jinn, so why she had sensed their disappearance was a mystery she couldn't comprehend, and, with the disappearance of the Force, she couldn't try to comprehend anyhow.

It was still there, that much was obvious to anyone who opened their minds to the old bonds they used to have to tie them to those connections, just cut away. Not like on Myrkr, where one had no clue that the Force existed at all, it was like being completely normal, it just wasn't accessible. As if someone had greased the strands most Jedi could weave into a telekinetic rope with oil from a Kath hound's hide, or the threads that made up the powerful mental bonds of a Master/Padawan pairing, or the puzzle pieces of the galaxy had been placed behind a solid wall. A Padawan could still sense their Master, with a slightly more telepathic connection than most would have had, but there was no contact in that bond.

Try as she might, Dia couldn't even get her datapad to lift even a couple galactic standard inches off of the table, let alone half the length she normally could've levitated a much larger object without thought.

But there was one thing she could read from the Force amid the chaos that reeled through her mind, and that was that five crucial beings to the fate of the galaxy were missing. She had never met any of themthough she thought it was possible she may have seen Kenobi at classes while she was still a Padawan but one thing was clear.

She had to find them.

She didn't even know where to begin, or what they even looked like. She had to find them somehow.

And she didn't plan on failing.

* * *

The centerpoint of the galaxy, and it was gone. Destroyed, wiped away by a race set on annihilating all technology. At least they had been defeated, Obi-Wan Kenobi thought, grimly, though Jedi teachings forbade him to continue thinking on the path he had been on. He took a breath, running calm through his mind. _can't be can't be can't be how could they destroy everything how could anakin turn against me why would've i trained him the boy was dangerous surely qui-gon would've senator palpatine's evil but that's impossible..._

His thoughts were running away, a tangled mess of everything that refused to be sorted out.

He hadn't stopped Jacen from telling a full version of the history of the wars against the Yuuzhan Vong, nor from going back further, to the fall of the Republic, to Darth Vader and the Emperor Palpatine, and all that had happened at that time either.

It all seemed like a dream.

And it was minutes of silence after Jacen had finished that Obi-Wan finally looked up, staring at the wall with a haunted expression.

_The boy is dangerous, Master..._

_They're holding me back!_

_I don't think Anakin is ready for this._

_He _is_ the Chosen one._

_Do what must be done..._

He shook the memories that weren't his own away, turning a dull blue gaze on Jacen's all to knowledgeable one. "Anakin... was the cause... of all this?" he asked softly. Though the story was told, he needed confirmation.

"Yes."

Obi-Wan swore under his breath. He had a very, very bad feeling about this. Jacen raised his eyebrows slightly to hear the word coming from the younger version of a man he had grown to think of as the mythical, perfect Jedi. _I wonder what sort of language Master Yoda uses, then_, Jacen thought wryly.

"And I'm dead because my _apprentice_ killed me when he turned to the darkside!"

"Well, he killed you much later on."

_Small comfort. I'm still dead. _He swore again, this time much more colorfully, borrowing a Corellian street term that his Master would've cringed to hear from his mouth. Even though it was Qui-Gon he had learned the word from. "And Senator Palpatine took over the galaxy, and Anakin's children are the present Jedi Masters!" He closed his eyes, trying to keep from freaking out.

Jacen nodded slightly, mumbled an affirmative after taking a look at Obi-Wan's closed eyes. He took in a breath of calm, and waited a few minutes for Obi-Wan to calm down somewhat. A flicker through the Force...

_...something's very wrong..._

But he lost it when Jaina sent through their twin bond a quick shoutout. /Tell your 'Jedi' friend to wake up from reality. We're coming out of hyperspace in five./

/Check that./

He stood up, repeated Jaina's message dutifully. "Would you like some stimcaf, or anything to eat before we land?" he asked, softly, with a mildly comforting tone.

Obi-Wan was silent, stood up stiffly, and felt his bones crack a bit as he moved from the cramped position, though not as bad as he received after meditating for any length of time. "Yes, thank you," he said, remembering some manners a moment later.

Jacen smiled, and disappeared in a moment.

And Obi-Wan wished he could cry, but knew this was not the time for such actions.


	7. 6: Phantom Adversary

**AN: **(moans) Time to update... I think my beta reader died after she read the first piece of this chapter in detail. (moans again) I went over what remained myself and got mom to read it too, so I hope it's okay. I mean, I'm catching up to myself on and that's becoming an issue, so I had to post another chapter. Heh. Reviews, now...

**Master Darth Warious: **Heh. Here's another update, and arsenic candies just for you.

**Jedi-Keliam-Kenobi: **Probably not soon enough for you, but here's an update.

**Insert Nicky-Nackity Nickname: **Yay! I'm glad you loved it. Yes, I know the beginning moved too fast. I'm working on rewriting it. You see, I wrote the beginning a long while ago, and unbetaed. I've improved muchly in my writing skills with the aid of two lovely beta readers and time, of course. I'll try my best to explain the NJO situation (which I have made slightly AU anyway) for those who haven't read the books, though.

**Blackheart Syaoran: **I love your name... (coughs) Sorry. As for what you said about Luke fighting DM... (grins sheepishly) I hope you read this and the next chapters... you know, a lot of people like this for the TPM characters being stuck in the cooler time period. (shrugs) Oh, the fun of Auness...

**Jandalf: **Heh. I love you too, Master. (rolls eyes) You know I couldn't resist that quip. And now that about 2 months have passed, I will take you seriously that I do all right on Lukie. I mean, to the point where I'll write him in real time RPG... that's faith in his character. Thanks for hiking my opinion of my character-portrayal of him. By the way, I was using two dashes. I've started trying to use just one, and spaced out now...

**LuvinLivnReadn: **Warious is a she... just... so you know. And I will not claim myself to even be one of the good SW fanfic writers. You, girl, need to expand your horizons a bit if you think most of them suck. I command you to go and read Tatooine Engagement (Audreidi) and The Water's Edge (obana). And perhaps some of Smenzer's stuff too. (shameless) Glad you enjoyed it and I hope to pull you into the SW fandom.

**Padmé Evenstar: **Hi, Padawan. (grins) And yes, I posted before you could beta. I may very well need you back at the rate I'm going... GAH! NO REVENGE!

**Molly: **I need you back! Oh well, I hope you like this update when you get to reading it... no, you're not biased. (rolls eyes) What was that about the phantom baddy? Mom says she thinks he reminds her of Smith... uh... never mind, that's a spoiler now...

**Adrienne Gollumeyes: **Moo. Now you can stop poking me every Sunday to update! (sticks tongue out) And yes, they killed Coruscant, and yes, Obi will meet little Ani, and... I TOLD mom you'd bug me about "seen". (sighs) Glad you liked it... (:P)

**WhiteWizard101: **Well, here's your update. (grins) Glad you like it.

_AN 2: Wow, that's a lot of reviews..._

**--Chapter 6--**

It wasn't all right. It couldn't be all right.

Silence.

It was too quiet. As if all the birds and beasts and creatures so venerable and time tried that even the Force itself made way for them had vanished. None of the sounds of the jungle were there anymore, nothing more than a rustle of wind that brushed the thick canopy of branches and vines. It caused some of the thinner vines to sway in the breeze - and then, even that too vanished.

As if the elements themselves were afraid.

Luke stopped.

He felt Mara stiffen in his arms (for he had been loath to release her from his embrace and she had seemed to linger) and then she reached down with one silent and swift motion to grasp her lightsaber. He slowly released her then and dropped his arms to his side with clenched fists. The Jedi Master drew in a breath, released it quietly, then echoed the movement to raise his lightsaber handle to his right hand. He felt her tension ripple through the air like the brief breeze that had seemed to die out, but unlike the wind, it remained.

She switched to predator.

Anger. But it didn't feed from Mara, Luke knew. The expanding circle of darkside emotions that spread out weren't the sort of flame he knew from his wife. Her eyes were flared with a desire to fight, a strength of will so few people had, but it was not anger that trailed about her aura. It lay far deeper...

He closed his eyes. _Search for the center..._

Then traced the rippling energy inwards, diving through the turmoil of darkness and trying not to be swallowed within. Luke snapped his eyes back open and let the blue flame contrast with the hate.

He knew the sense he received from tracing the expanding circle of awareness. It was twin to what he had felt in the presence the Emperor: a desire to eradicate all Jedi from the galaxy, and to carry on, to decimate all who stood in their way. He knew the hunger for power, the lust, the hate, the pure passion for control over _everything_...

"No," he said simply.

"No?"

Luke smiled suddenly, the calm of a Jedi spreading over his features, and ice blue eyes changing just slightly into an overly peaceful mask. "I've already won," he whispered, smiling. And he thumbed his finger over the igniter on his lightsaber for a second...

Then Mara ignited her lightsaber with a sudden _snap-hiss_, a sound that had grown all too familiar over the last few years, and whirled it over Luke's head to connect with a blood-red beam. Ozone filled the air, and a brilliant flare of light that almost blinded the two Jedi.

Luke dropped in less than a second, flipped back up, and in a blink of an eye had his lightsaber activated. A green flame was now held in guard position in his right hand, left flung out behind him to keep the sudden balance change from throwing him off.

_This is not good..._

The dark robed figure that was the sentient being wielding the lightsaber smiled. His teeth glowed in an unnatural brightness, and his eyes were yellow. Amber like the Emperor's, and like Luke had envisioned his father's to look like before he was hidden behind the mask. Amber that traced a transparent lens over whatever color had once glowed in the depths of a skull.

Thick and heavy robes, red stripes over a horned face... their attacker seemed the very embodiment of the devil himself, some creature from the depths of a child's nightmare.

_This is really, _really_ bad._

All the creepy glory that was possessed by one of the darkside, revealed in moments that passed within a blink of an eye - yea, were merely a blink of an eye to take it in, to take in the obvious and brutal reality of that moment.

A choice.

Run, and be struck down from behind, or fight to the death.

They would fight. And fight with honor. And die with honor, if the need were there.

The three blades gleamed in the grove, casting unnatural blue and red light across the shadows of the jungle, and allowing the taint smell of ozone to pollute the fresh air. The moment passed too quickly, yet slowed by the Force so that all the sensations of the darkside could slam into their awareness. The hatred for all living things, for all that would dare stand in the way of conquest...

The tucked away fear and memory of things too far back for him to remember, of being taken to a better life, and tricked away into who he had become...

But for the growing hum that changed in frequency when Mara shifted her lightsaber slightly, the grove was silent, their breaths and heartbeats tight in their chest.

Yet that silence, the startled feel of being responded to in like attack, the knowledge of evil... it lasted but a second, or, as someone more precise would've noted, 2.5504 seconds. Luke hardly had the time to get a decent look at their attacker before he was forced to defend himself.

And defend himself he did.

The whirling slash-hiss-slam of colors, sensations, and the Force had grown all too familiar to Luke Skywalker as he had lived. As well, it had grown to be quite a second nature for Mara Jade-Skywalker. Their opponent was well trained in the Jedi arts, and in the Force - he put up a fight that was worth remembering... if either of them were to live to remember it.

Recoil. He knew the red blade would go for his shoulder, he dove sideways. The flicker in the Force was almost too late. Luke only had an instant to reverse his motion as the darksider feinted, and caught the darksider's lightsaber on the inner ring of his defense.

_Who am I fighting?_

Curiosity for a second. _I never trained him. Have the Sith made a rebound? Are we going to be faced with another galactic calamity in moments if I don't die?_

_Or..._

A slamming attack from the robed attacker would've led to a lock had Luke not forced himself forward, and the Sith recoiled for a second.

_...Is he just another Dark Jedi? _Luke finished his thought.

The lightsaber passed just a hair beside his shoulder. It singed his robe through, but Mara's blade caught it a second before Luke found himself lacking in a rather important appendage for lightsaber dueling.

Too close for comfort.

For one man - though an alien, a Zabrak, Luke noted - this one was doing far too well.

Mara changed her style in seconds to toss the alien off guard. Suddenly her eyes were flaming with an anger Luke didn't like to see in her inner self. Rather than a past resolve, she was suddenly maddened. She dove in for an attack, momentarily catching him - it? - off step, and driving him back a couple standard inches.

Luke took the second to recover, and joined her in attempting to drive the alien back.

It still wasn't enough.

It was nothing like a spar. Lightsabers whirling in nearly twin motions, the two Jedi allowed themselves to meld, working together with motions nearly as one person. Working to batter the Sith back and exhaust him.

Luke didn't want to kill him. His curiosity was more of a threat to him than the red lightsaber blade, at times.

Maul carried on his steady attack - for that was who it was, of course, even if the Jedi didn't know this at the time - dodging their blades as if they were mere toys. Mara scored a gash along the Sith's arm, but his face didn't even flicker, so set on finishing his Jedi opponents.

Nevertheless, the tear in the black fabric had cut deeper than just the thick dark robes. Mara knew it hurt.

She swore to hurt him more.

Yet she felt Luke's warning - even if it were only her mind, pressed to the blindness of battle that filled it in. _Beware of the darkside_. She filed it away, allowing herself to heed it if only unconsciously.

Battle rage consumed her nevertheless, and she found herself seeing the world through a misted glare of the Force and passion to _win_. It seemed to slow - time, that was. Carrying her through the wings of energy blades and pain, rather than letting her sink - slowed down enough to let her see what would happen a second before it did.

Luke already could see that slower, second viewpoint. He had embraced it from the start.

Yet it was still going too fast to predict...

_TIME!_

The sudden flash of complete _wrongness_ hit her like a bowling ball in the stomach through the Force. It physically knocked her back, she fought for her balance as her knees threatened to meet her shoulders.

Luke flickered, half of his mind wanting to scream _what's wrong!_ at her. To stop and pull her back to her feet.

He didn't. He twisted back into form, blocking with a rage he hadn't had a moment ago. To the Jedi Master, it had been their attacker that had knocked Mara back, not a sudden flash that he had missed.

Yet he had missed it. Mara jumped back up, lightsaber back in hand before her boots struck the ground simultaneously. She didn't have time to question what it was that she had sensed from the time stream and the Force before she was back in attack.

And Maul threw Luke back, using physical strength that the human did not equal to toss him to the ground. Luke's head lashed back, and his hair flew into his eyes for a moment, and lightsaber flew into the hands of Darth Maul. Maul kicked him in the temple sharply and the Sith saw Luke wince. He grinned slightly, wickedly.

"No!" Mara yelled, hurling herself at him.

By now, the black tattooed Zabrak had grown tired of this game. He hurled her back with the Force, and reached through her mind, funneling deep into the heart through her mental blocks, as if they were hardly there. In truth, he was fighting as hard as she was, holding her back...

Mara fought. Made sure she hurt him as much as he hurt her...

Darkness...

She swore before the red and black closed over her vision and other senses that the wind had picked up and the birds sang once more. The jungle returned to peace.

Mara's senses did not.

* * *

He had knocked her off guard.

_I'm dead_, he thought ruefully. It was really quite a shame being dead, after all. The lack of a physical form that really meant anything, the fact that you couldn't really manipulate the physical realm with any surety... well, it made for a pain. Plus the glowing garments of white and silver didn't really add to the all-evil image.

He didn't know how he had shaped the words that made up the thoughts. He didn't remember how he knew the language. Or what the language was called, for any matter. Common, or Basic, or English - oh, what did the name matter?

Yet she had sensed him. Or, more, sensed what he had done.

He smiled, and tucked his white garments down. It didn't really make for much of a difference, as there was no one there to note the shadowed figure and his disheveled appearance. Being dead, after all, tended to mean _alone_.

All these years of no time, no space, no light, no dark... nothing... and he had finally found a way to effect them! Finally! It gave a break to the absolute nothingness of deadness - which of course meant it wasn't nothing. It was boring. Boring was something, even if it wasn't a relished something.

Hate was slightly more preferred, but he couldn't even hate at all times.

_Ah, well, Time is something, if nothing._ Manipulating Time made for quite an amusing toy, shifting the parallels so that they crashed and wove together. He could bind threads that never should've connected. Quite a masterpiece indeed, indeed...

He tucked both hands in front of himself. It was really quite a shame that he couldn't remember his name. Goals were one thing, but to not have any name to apply to their pure mastermind functions, well! It was rather unbelievable. After all, in a few centuries after he ruled the chaos that he was pushing the puzzle pieces of continuum into, they would have to place a name to the mastermind behind it all!

Ah, well. He couldn't remember enough of the Basic speech _to _name himself as it were. Perhaps later, perhaps when he could recall who and what he was...

But there. It was Basic. He knew the language's name, and that was a start. Perhaps his _wondrous_ name would come next to fill the emptiness. Surely someone as brilliant-minded as he had a just as incredible name.

For now, he would call himself the Master. Yes, that would do just fine, he thought. After all, they would hail him as such in due time...

* * *

_Sit down._

_Close your eyes._

She shivered. The air was warm around her, but it clung with a damp chill, blanketing her in her sorrows, and drowning her in her tears. It was nearly tangible with its thick reality and pain.

_Stand up._

Her motions were robotic, teasing and taunting. They weren't her own, she felt like a puppet. A puppet to grief - that was what it was. It had taken her, taken her mind into its control, taken her to toss her into an unending sea of sorrows and fear. For a chance to dream away in nightmares...

That was it, it had to be it. It was only an illusion. Yes. None of this was real. _I'll wake up and scream, and everyone'll ask me what's wrong, and I'll smile and say wearily that it was just a bad dream, just a nightmare, just the little shadows in the back of my mind taking me and laughing at me. It's only a dream._

_I'll wake up, scream, and have my laugh. Watch the shadows creep up in the corners of the room as reality slowly sinks back to me. I'll sink back in the soft feathered feel of my bed, reach up to flick on a light. But when I move, the light will come on because I'm no longer just tossing in my sleep. It knows, even if it's merely a droid, a motion sensitive existence..._

_The light'll overcome. It'll spread outwards in less than a human can note, chase the shadows back to where they belong - vanquished. I'll reach up and rub the sleep from my eyes, noting the tight feel of my fists. I'll unclench them, sink back, and turn the light back off if no one heard my screams._

_I'll laugh, and go back to sleep knowing I'm safe._

_I'll... I'll..._

_Damn, this is real, isn't it?_

The young queen slowly reached a hand up to her hair, brushed a piece long hair that had come undone back behind her ears. She paused for a second, and sighed. Sighed hard, then caught her balance, sitting back down. Padmé flinched. She was undecided, near to the point of pacing. Light wind rustled her hair, blowing it back across her face. She had to reach up and brush it back, pinning it behind her ears yet again.

It didn't stay. The light wind just caused a few stray hairs to slip over her brown eyes. Padmé finally gave up and just left it hanging in front of her eyes. Perhaps it would disguise the tears if nothing more. Why couldn't it rain?

She wanted to know. Wanted to know _how! Why! When! Who! How! _But, most of all, _why_. The unanswered rhetoric ringing in her ears, in her mind, in her face-- _why why why why WHY! why'd this happen_ _the trade federation wouldn't would they oh sithspawn i don't know..._

Thoughts that ran away on a train all their own, chasing after the questions that refused to be answered, and refused to make any note of anything besides taunting her mind and making her wonder. Wonder why. Wonder everything that she couldn't answer.

_Can't I just ask?_

There wasn't really anyone _to_ ask, now was there? There was the rescue crew, and she respected their actions - had Padmé not been so distraught she would've thought to aid them. The thought had passed through her mind.

No. She couldn't ask them for answers to questions everyone else probably knew. They would merely think her a pain and someone whose only goal was to stand in their way. A hindrance to an attempt to save others.

She didn't want that.

It was the confused tangle of thoughts that disguised the crunch of a footfall behind her, striking a piece of twisted and misshapen ferrocrete that protruded from the musky ground behind her. Though the approach had been masked by the soft and damp biological ground, she was so lost in thoughts that she didn't hear the clink and clatter of metal boots against some piece of a wall or floor of something. Perhaps it was the piece of a hotel where millions of sentients gathered to stay the night, or a spacer's cantina with all the scum of the galaxy and more besides. Or perhaps it was nothing, no more than a piece of a support to hold up another building.

But it was there, and that was what mattered. And so was the _clang_ that came of armor just glancing off of the rubble.

And Padmé did not notice until Boba Fett spoke.

Then her train of thought derailed.

* * *

But they weren't out of hyperspace, and Anakin was suddenly confused. He knew he had heard the rattle of bolts and duct tape threatening to fall apart... he knew there was something...

Outside, the ship hurled through hyperspace with a lack of thought. Stars passed in seconds, unseen by anyone within the ship. Asteroids formed, a comet zinged past a sun that would in seconds grow up to incinerate a lifeless planet that circled it. The moon would fly away from its destroyed world, a satellite with nothing to follow but a path newly forged. A Mynock foolishly seen a red glow inside of a large engine and flew into it, becoming Mynock stew in a second.

The ten year old boy reached up, touching his head gingerly with one hand. He felt tired, drained, as if something had been taken from him. He had seen the future before, brief glimmers of things before they would happen, but never like this before. Never...

He carefully stood up, gingerly testing his weight upon his feet before swinging himself completely off of the bed and onto his feet. The floor held up, as did his knees, and he crossed the room silently with no intent in mind but moving.

Anakin could've sworn he had heard the ship come from hyperspace... _Another glimpse of the future?_ Or not. Closing his eyes, he examined the insides of his eyelids in thought.

Upon one event an entire future could rest, and young Anakin Skywalker was completely unaware of the fact that his entire future rested in the balance soon enough. Take one different step, and a life could be remade. Take another choice and a destiny could be relived.


	8. 7: A Nameless Fear

To my reviewers...

**frofgiffrog: **Thanks. (grins) Glad you think it's really good...

**Molly: **I'm sorry... I just had to update. Really... (hugs Molly) Don't hold my chapters hostage on me anymore! (grins) Oh. Darth Snookums. Heh heh. But, yeah, here's the next chapter with the few requested changes. No more fangirls. Snrk. I have Chapter Eight started. I'll send it to you once I finish Obi &Kerian or Dane's and Eli... scene... (shuts up) Glad the evil scares you! I WIN!

**Blackheart Syaoran: **(grimaces at langauge) Heh. Er... just as an fyi, I've always seen Leia Organa-Solo and Mara Jade-Skywalker from what I've read, least to memory. (shrugs) I like it hyphenated better anyway. Now. I've read nearly every SW book in existence, and I would like you to take this into consideration. Maul was able to take down a Padawan and Jedi Master of the Old Republic Order. The only reason Obi won was because of Maul's ego. Read Audreidi's review for chapter seven. And besides, I was too lazy to write a long duel anyway. ;) I live for the melodrama. I'll try to get to reading your story. Why don't you check out my crossover forum if you like RPG and stuff?

**Slayer rock chick: **Er... nope. Not for a while. Anakin and Obi-Wan will meet soonish. But that's about it for now.

**Audreidi: **Yes, well, Master, my intent has lately been to improve. A lot. Hehe. Now, here's your update. I'll try to get you more stuff to read, but you know my focus is generally elsewhere. Snrk. Sorry if Padmé's too melodramatic. I wrote her after I had done an Ariane-Myrkr scene, so I was still melodramatically hiked. She probably won't change either. And I don't know Ani's char very well at all... long enough chapter for you now? (grins) Ten pages, size 12 Times New Roman. Like my OC? (grins) You should know him... well...

**To Adrienne and Darth Aragorn: **I know you didn't get to reviewing on but I'm really glad you likd my updaty. Here's another one for the sake of freaking you out. No battle, but... yeah. Snrk.

**To the readers who have me on alert or favorites and haven't bothered reviewing: I hope you like this update:D Review someday to drop me a line, eh?**

--**Chapter 7--**

They landed. The motion of hearing the ship hiss through the atmosphere and hum to a gliding smooth landing did little for Obi-Wan's mood. It was a relief that the young hotshot pilot Jaina Solo had a well used skill for landings, but it was also a feeling of distress that swept through him on realizing that he now had to face the reality of this impossible situation.

Impossible... but oh, so real.

He set his cup down half empty on the table, a slight jerk of the ship causing it to tip and slosh a bit of caf over the sides before he could stabilize it.

Eating... it had always been a good escape beforehand. Something he always wanted to do, as was observed by many a Jedi Master on seeing the Padawan viciously attack a plate of... well, anything really. Obi-Wan smiled vaguely at the memories that swept back for just a second.

_I always was too nice,_ he thought distantly. _I could never badger the cooks into second helpings like a couple of the other Padawans at the Temple_. He could remember a few in particular, spoons waving wildly at the cooks as they went on with explanations about how their life would come to a short end if they weren't granted a second helping of whatever was on the menu that day.

Jaina had done well at piloting the ship through the atmosphere, though it had been a slightly jerky ride. The turbulence of the gas planet caused tremors in realspace, and he had been slightly nervous about the landing. The girl, after all, had the aura of a daredevil, one who would risk anything on a gamble if the need was there. Her emotions were strong, he had already noted. She carried a power about her that few Jedi he had ever met had.

He knew little about the moon. He knew it was a jungle-type moon that had once been inhabited by the Massassi who had built temples on the surface of incredible size, much like the Temple he knew quite well. Jacen had explained mildly how the Vong had attacked that moon as well, and how things were under construction to be rebuilt.

The whir of shutdown entered his ears. Obi-Wan blinked slightly and stood up to feel his blood rush back into his legs with a tingling sensation that spread throughout his lower body briefly before calming. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath to calm himself...

And was struck by the need to get off of the ship and out of the canned air into real air. He disembarked a few moments after Jacen, Jaina still checking over to make certain that he hadn't planted any explosives in the ship or anything else of the like. At least, that was the impression Obi-Wan had received, though he guessed she was only cleaning up a few things left behind. She seemed to be quite the suspicious type even still...

Obi-Wan wondered why he was continually thinking back to Jaina. The girl hadn't seemed to like him much, after all. To be honest, she didn't seem to really like anyone. Perhaps something had happened to her in her past? The darkside, losing someone?

The stimcaf was left to be picked up by Jaina a few minutes later and tossed out into the trash, as she had no use for cold caffeine. The girl quickly assumed no one else would either, unless it was a mold germ. She had no desire to host mold, though, so out it went.

He caught traces of conversation as he walked across the temporary cemented landing pad through his mind's turmoil. Wind rustled his robe around his feet and hood. Feet grazed the ground in a steady pattern, a chattery hum lilting up and to his ears for a moment until thoughts overtook for a moment, and the world swayed...

He took a deep breath, let the senses of the planet filter through his every being, drowning him in peace and existence, in light and in shadows, in the very embodiment of life. He released it, and with that the tension and fear and anxieties.

_Luke... Mara... went out after... haven't returned... strange ripples..._

Something seemed remarkably wrong within the feel of life within the Force, an eerie echo deep within the shadows it formed; somewhere upon the verge of a mountain, yet still masked by a valley there was a darkness. There was a rebound of power that grew in magnitude, yet eluded his touch no matter how hard he reached out. As if it were beyond time itself.

_Found... on Coruscant... _They were talking about him, then?

Obi-Wan knew he looked different; the heavy robes of the Old Republic hung heavily over his shoulders, the carefully tucked tabard and belt a far cry from what everyone else here seemed to wear. There were tunics of every color of the rainbow, leggings and trousers and skirts that hardly fit the common Jedi wear. Some wore utility belts, others a piece of rope around their tops to keep them from flaying open in the heavy wind. Some of the clothing was so unorthodox it seemed outrageous to think of a Jedi wearing such. And there was no sign of rank among hairstyle, no single braids trailing from behind the ears of apprentices, no longer hair on the Knighted men.

The changes time had wrought were certainly more subtle than he had first assumed.

_Rebuilding project... Yuuzhan Vong..._

Jacen had vaguely mentioned that, Obi-Wan remembered. But he had been so unaware of what was being said at that moment, so tangled up in thoughts he had been. Now pieces were beginning to filter into place. He stood in what seemed the middle of a crush of people, alone in the crowd, and stared up at the sky for a long moment. The nearby temple was half built, construction shells ringing the building with a skeletal frame and giving it a gaunt appearance. The trees around it had replenished themselves, presumably with the aid of the Force, sending a half cleared forest around the boundaries.

The stone and concrete underneath his feet was marred by blasterfire and time, some of it far newer in its existence than others, but it was firm and cool to the touch.

Jacen touched Obi-Wan on the shoulder lightly, and the Jedi Padawan turned, wind brushing his robe to trail behind him slightly. He jerked his shoulders to keep the heavy robe from falling back. The wind on the planet was rather strong at the moment. Unnaturally so, it seemed, as it twisted into their hair, setting those with slightly longer hair (not including Obi-Wan with his short buzz cut) into a tousled mess.

In the mass of people milling about (though it wasn't so many as it seemed within the Force and the blur) a figure paused for a moment, turning just for perhaps five seconds to gaze steadily at the two with dark eyes. A second's scrutiny touched his expression, then he turned to vanish again into the crowd as if it had never happened at all. It made no impression on the two Jedi's minds. The arrival of a famed Jedi had made enough of a stir that people did notice things, did stare...

"Master Skywalker's missing," Jacen said, his voice quite nervous. And perhaps there was more behind that slight quaver that hit his expression...

An element that should not have been in the young man's voice... and it didn't even appear to be coming from his voice. Obi-Wan filed it away in his mind to later recall, if the need was there.

_Skywalker? That's Anakin's name..._

"You're going to go out to look for him," Obi-Wan said calmly. He had regained control of his senses now, regained a smooth control of his voice.

A set of dark eyes gazed out from the mess of people, a single pair of piercingly black eyes that seemed to stand out of the whirling crowd twisting about. Obi-Wan found himself glancing briefly away from Jacen, turning his expression over to the crowd. And then it was gone, vanished into the mess again. _Who are you..._

Jacen nodded. "He's my uncle. I'll know where to find him." The unasked question in his eyes.

And was there a whisper in the wind that rushed through the courtyard attached onto the dock on Yavin IV. A wry tangle through the reeds, as if out there, someone was replying. _You will... know..._

_If only you would open your eyes..._

"On your own?"

Jacen nodded.

Obi-Wan glanced away from Jacen for just a moment, the tingling feeling that something wasn't right sending a chill up his spine. "Very well," he said, perhaps a bit reluctantly. "Just..." It intensified for a moment, making a tremble of anticipation take control of his limbs, then it vanished. "If I may be so bold to say I have a bad feeling about this?"

"Don't worry." Jacen smiled thinly. "I feel it too. Will you be all right?"

"I'll be all right on my own," Obi-Wan remarked, shaking away the sudden clamminess that touched his brow, "if someone would be so kind as to direct me to anywhere where I might find food."

Was there a distant stirring in the horizon? A flare through the Force... dullened by time and space that should not have even existed. Or was it only caused by the slightly pointed gazes cast, the whispers that he could almost hear touching the mouths of querying faces. _Who... Are... You?_

The Jedi Padawan found himself quickly redirected to the interior of the Jedi Temple on Yavin IV, and towards the cafeteria.

* * *

Sometimes things were centred, calm. Sometimes things could be held and grasped in the palm of your hand, and there was no emotion to that but ease. Sometimes, a person could reach out and it seemed as if the very stars were at their grasp. 

For Jedi, it was often like that. They could close their eyes and reach out to the stars, sensing all the beings and small atoms that made up the very essense of the earth they stood on. The worlds were indeed at their control. They had that power, that ability to reach out and control what happened... though perhaps some took that far too seriously, dangling into darkness from an over desire to control.

Sometimes. It always rang around the possibilities.

Possibilities made up what was, what is, and what would come to pass. Possibilities made up the realms of darkness and light, the tiny wars within wars that always carried on, no matter how oblivious you were to them. In everything there is a battle, a time to live, to die. To love, to hate... to carry on at all things, and sometimes, to let go of the baton and pass it off to the next runner while you sit down and watch the rest go by.

It was impossible to centre yourself when the world around you was in chaos... at least, if you were a Jedi. It was even harder to centre yourself when all the world you originally knew was gone. Vanished.

From Qui-Gon's perspective, it seemed that the absence spread from Coruscant, that from the very heart of the galaxy there was a tear in the veil that held it together. The Force had gone out like a light, and all that could be grasped seemed to be the remnants of a candle lit and extinguished. Only the heat remained, dissipating in the tangled mists that made up the universe.

At one time, the Jedi could reach out, and a sixth sense could read that mist. At a time not so long ago, they could reach out into the Force and find the darkness within there, find their heart and very soul to control. They could levitate objects with merely the power of their mind, force the weakminded into a state where they were controllable. To some, the Jedi Knights were gods of a sort, wizards and masters of an unknown and almighty power.

But for Master Qui-Gon Jinn at that moment, he felt like anything but an all-powerful wielder of peace and justice in the galaxy. He felt empty, as if something had been torn from his soul. From that very heart of his being, there was a hollow where nothing remained. Obi-Wan was gone. The Force was slowly vanishing from the Jedi's perspective to another dimension that could not be grasped by them, at least in that state of mind.

Was the Force dead? Had something more powerful taken a blade to its heart?

Or was that possible.

Was everything they had believed in wrong? Was the Force no longer the all-powerful control within the galaxy? Had they been wrong to accept, to honor, to even condone the Force? Had everything they had ever believed in been the complete vision of all lies?

Was the Code in error?

What had they done wrong?

Had someone done something to them? It seemed so childish to blame it on a chemical, on perhaps something someone had put into the water that had made the Jedi drunken in the Force. But maybe it was as simple as that. Maybe he could sleep on it and it would return.

Had someone shot the Force? Had someone perhaps taken a blaster to its heart? Or was that impossible? _If that's the case,_ his mind whispered, _then everything you were told was a lie. If the Force can be destroyed, then it's not the complete power of the universe._

He stood up, realizing with a start he had sat down on the bulk of some protrusion from the interior of the ship. It was shaped relatively like a chair, he observed with a piece of his mind that wasn't going into a state of relative hysterics. _Maybe that's why I sat on it._

He walked over to a proper chair nevertheless, sitting carefully down with legs crossed at the knees. His robe lay haphazardly over one shoulder, the other arm dangling behind him until he sat on it, crunching the thick material underneath his weight. For a long while his eyes only traced the roof, counting the tiles that made up the lines...

_Were we wrong?_ his mind asked in a mild stage of fear. Without the Force, fear began to take over, and the chill rippling through his body seemed almost unnatural. Yet he felt it too clearly, the darkness that pressed over his heart, his mind, the centre that was empty. _Was everything we believed in a lie? Why would they lie to us?_

"Why not?"

Qui-Gon sat straight with a start.

"Does everyone not lie? Have you ever met someone who never lied to you? Truly, even your apprentice had to have lied to you."

The Jedi Master stood up, his robe slipping off unnoticed into a brown heap on the chair. His basic tunic was streaked with the grime of Tatooine, a dusty silt that managed to get into everything. It gave the already beige garments a very dull tone that managed to make Qui-Gon look very washed out and messy compaired to the being that stood in front of him.

Qui-Gon's first thought was: _He wasn't there a moment ago._

His second thought was: _Blast, he has a lightsaber._

His third thought was: _What _is_ he?_

His fourth thought was: _I have a bad feeling about this._

The man in front of him was tall. Slightly taller than the Jedi Master, placing him at around six foot seven in standard galactic measurements, they were able to look nearly eye to eye. And it was that that made the gaze so unnaturally painful. Whoever this man was, he had vividly purple eyes with a strange darkness that threatened to haunt their entire being. His hair was black, and his eyes seemed to glow in the slight darkness within the Nubian ship. A lightsaber hung loosely at his side, but one glance revealed more than met the eyes from the Jedi.

_This was no Jedi..._

"You have questions, I presume," the man carried on, as if there were absolutely nothing abnormal to walking into a ship without any notice being taken. "But that matters little at that moment."

"Who are you?" Qui-Gon asked dangerously, a hand dropped to his lightsaber. This man was the very aura of a tricky evil, a light tongued snake who would weave traps and danger at every turn.

Perhaps the slightest hint of a smile hit his face for just a second or two. The man blinked, looking almost offended for a second before he took a step back and bowed.

That caused Qui-Gon to blink. But the man rose up from the waist-deep bow (very carefully executed), examining the face of the Jedi Master with a startling ease. "You do not know me? How rude of me," he allowed. "I am Eliaith Vilanar, Master Jinn. _Master_ Eliaith Vilanar."

"You're no Jedi."

"Nor Sith."

"_What_ are you." Qui-Gon's eyes strayed to the ears. Slanted, yet the man still had a very human-like bearing.

"Nothing you would ever have heard of."

"Why are you here?" Qui-Gon didn't want to allow himself to be distracted by the banter, the endless twist of words that would lead nowhere. Perhaps at another time he would've played in, but he was tired, wounded, hungry, and his spirit drained.

Eliaith twisted his fingers together behind his back, staring at Qui-Gon with dangerously purple eyes. "You presume to ask answers."

"Yes, I do."

"I am here, because another is dead."

Qui-Gon allowed an inner sigh. The... whatever he was... Qui-Gon had no certain idea as to the race, the affiliation, or the motives of the being before him. Only that he was purely evil indeed. "That's..." he began. But Eliaith cut him off with a sharp wave of the hand.

"You immediately take me as evil?" he asked, slightly hurt. "Now, that's not very nice of you. Perhaps I have slightly different eyes, and pointed ears, and black robes, but that's no reason to assume I am evil."

"You also walked in here without a second thought..."

"Actually, I didn't _walk_ in..."

"_Whatever_ you did, then, it was certainly without permission!"

"Faugh! You Jedi are all alike. Presumptions, presumptions, presumptions. Never letting us different people have a moment to think to ourselves..."

"I've given you more than enough time to think for yourself. Who are you?"

"I'm Eliaith Vilanar. Who are you?"

"Qui-Gon Jinn," the Jedi Master shot back. "You are requested to remove your presence from this ship now."

"Very well." The alien-humanish person drew back, a slightly wounded expression on his evil face as he...

Walked through the wall and vanished!

Qui-Gon drew in a startled breath. _Whatever you are, Master Vilanar, it is not someone that should exist in this world..._

* * *

Jacen drew into the jungle and extended his awareness to include as much of the forestry as he could manage. The overwhelming feeling of all the semi-sentient life for a moment made him close his eyes and draw in a sharp breath. It always did. Around him, things lived. There was the sense of a circle that _was_. A pure and passionate will and desire to carry on, no matter what things happened. 

But the jungle was disturbed. Something had happened. He could sense it around him, the clamor beyond normal perception.

The young Jedi Knight had a connection with animal life, an empathy to understanding their motives. But the cluttering jumble of emotions was overwhelming, overpowering. There was no beginning point that he could use to center his awareness, to draw off of one particular thing. Everything was trying to talk. It was as if he was within an animal committee. Every single creature with a sensitivity to the Force, an empathetic ability to speak to his mind, was babbling. Jabbering about things that made little pictures in his mind and made absolutely no sense whatsoever at all. Whispers of elements out of control, black shadows flickering through the mists...

The wind rustled a thick canopy overhead, sending a chirpy swarm of insects hurling at his face but Jacen ducked, letting the Force warn him. He knew the dangers of the jungle better than most. Within a thick green hollow of papery branches a small family of lizards dwelled. Across from him, a few meters to the south, a whistling bird swept over a tiny stream that had been nearly blocked off by a dam of leaves and mud.

A predator crept within the amber leaves of a thicket to the east, carefully trailing behind the Jedi. The clouds drew overhead, and he carried on... Jacen had the feeling that it would rain soon. The air pressures pressed down against the wind, creating a slight static in his hair. He reached up for a moment to brush it back from his eyes, his step halting for a second.

The life within the Yavin IV jungle was ongoing, ever changing. They could lead him to Luke through their clamor, their panicked din that read of wrongness, of death brought about too soon. Of the darkside. Though most semi-sentients were neither light nor dark, they still had a sense of right and wrong at times. They still knew when something was wrong. They knew far more than most people would ever see.

He let them lead him through to that. He let the feelings pass through his mind and the Force translate them into a path through endless sticks and vines and animals. Branches scraped at his hair, at his clothes: a sharper stick hit his face and drew blood and Jacen had to dab it off with his sleeve.

But as he drew in deeper, he was overcome by a sense of something wrong. Vines had been slashed through, and not by any natural means.

The gashes were caused by a lightsaber. Nothing else would leave the cauterized sear on the branches, the bleeding of sap stopped by a quick burn. In a few places a sticky dampness accumulated, but most were cauterized by the heat of the laser.

He again extended his being, and realized that he was nearly over top of Master Luke Skywalker. A few meters to the left...

Jacen knelt beside the fallen Jedi Master, pressing his hands to his temples. There was a bit of dried blood on his face, and Jacen glanced around to observe his lightsaber was missing as well. The ground was trampled in that clearing, and there were slight burns on overhanging vines that had seemingly been in the way of a lightsaber blade at the wrong time. He reached out with the Force further yet.

Mara Jade was no longer there,_ if_ she had been there to begin with. Jacen didn't know, but the footsteps pressing the grove were of various sizes, so he assumed she had been, at least at one time.

Luke stirred, groaning slightly, and made a feeble attempt to bat Jacen's hands away. Jacen tightened the pressure over top the Master's head, stretching out with the Force to carefully check his vital signs.

"Where..." he moaned in a weak voice.

"You're in the jungle," Jacen murmured.

Luke's eyes flickered open, a sudden blue light where only pale flesh had been a moment before. Jacen shivered. The eyes that Luke had were still so piercing that at times it was hard to gaze at them. But they were also dilated strangely, Jacen noted with a nervous shiver that was masked by a cool breeze that swept over the area a second later.

"Where's Mara?" he whispered painfully.

"I don't know. Was she with you?" Luke started to answer, then Jacen cut him off. "And, no, don't speak to answer that. You're hurt."

"Not badly," Luke muttered, and struggled to sit up, flinching as vertigo threatened to knock him out as surely as a swift kick to the head had. The pain washed over his face, focus not strong enough to keep him from showing hurt. No matter how powerful a Jedi is, they can never keep from showing pain or fear at the end.

Jacen pursed his lips. "No, not badly," he said dryly.

"Mara hasn't returned to the Temple yet?" Luke asked slowly, his voice dry and cracked. A flash of worry crossed his face, but it gave way to pain again when he struggled to stand up.

Jacen forcefully pushed Luke back down to the ground, pressing his hands to his head once again. "No, stay down. You're not moving until you can see clearly."

"How did you..."

"Your pupils are dilated."

Luke sighed, and gave in, slumping against the coolness of the ground underneath his back. The mossy softness felt a lot better than the tingling chill that was spreading up his feet and back anyway, contrasting with the shooting hot pain in his spine and along his cheek. But he was so worried about Mara...

Afraid. Luke was terrified, and he couldn't completely understand why.


	9. 8: Salient Beings

**A/N: **_Appologies to the reviewers whom I generally respond to. It is now ruling that we're not allowed to do that. In order to avoid being banned for a second time I'm going to withold replying to you all... if your review is of note or requring reply, I'll reply through the PMing system or email. And forgive the words that bunch together. I try to find them and edit once I've uploaded. It seems to be an error with uploaderand my computer.Thanks._

_Sorry I took so long to get the next chapter up. I think my beta reader is completely dead, so this is being posted of my own judgement. (ei: unedited) Enjoy!_

**--Chapter Eight--**

As Obi-Wan trailed through the dark hallways, light streamed through windows up above in the skeletal structure built around the unfinished parts of the pyramid-like temple. It cast an odd shadow down as he passed those open spots, a piece of himself mirrored onto the wall beside him. His shadow was chopped apart, where light hit his form it allowed pieces of him to remain on the wall until he passed where the light entered and cast brilliance over his drab (and by now slightly dirty) robes.

There were the odd whispered, awed glances at him, and he seriously wondered about the mental stability of the people here. Why were they the way they were? Why had life cast them into these lots that made their carrying on this way. Why were their steps heavy, so many of them wearing downcast and darkened eyes, their faces bearing the memory of tearstains trailing down their faces.

He exhaled carefully, a slight shot in the strange silence that ensued from fear. Were they afraid of him? Why? What difference did he make to this world, a world that seemed as if it had been ravaged by fear and then torn away from that feed and tossed back into the galaxy in order to grow anew.

But someone approached him when he reached an empty and silent stretch that seemed to ring of unspoken dangers. The shadows here were deeper, the light that made their way through the window frames far sharper and more distorted by vines. This person was around six-two, perhaps even as tall as six foot five— nearly if not as tall as Obi-Wan's Master, and his eyes were a dark piercing gray. He wore basic farmer's robes that seemed almost a parody of the Jedi's garb, a tunic and trousers meant to blend in at all costs, simple enough to be normal, and yet basic enough to be noticeable.

But he seemed hardly shy for his bleak and unremarkable gray garb. "Master Kenobi?"

"I'm not a Master," Obi-Wan pointed out and immediately questioned why so many times people who knew your name before you told them who you were meant trouble and how it was that they knew your name.

"Oh, of course not," he said easily. "Padawan, right?" He didn't wait for a reply. "I am Kerian Calthye," the young man said with a flourish and a hint of a bow, almost mocking in its execution.

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes slightly. "And...?"

"And absolutely nothing," Kerian said cheerfully. "You see, everything's out to get you, so you need to know some things, I believe."

"Of course," Obi-Wan said dubiously. He eyed the newcomer's face, examining the stoic features for any trace of darkness, any trace of anything that might cast him into danger. Yet he sensed nothing from this being, as if he were hardly real. A slight raised eyebrow glanced its way over the Padawan's face as he allowed himself to search the other's expression for any hint of _why_ he was acting so oddly.

Obi-Wan's eyes narrowed. It wasn't that this Kerian Calthye didn't exist within the Force, it was just as if there was a little piece of him that was eluding focus. As if the man weren't all there, perhaps. Though of course he was tangible.

Kerian gave an irritating grin, sat down nonchalantly on a nearby bench, crossing his legs at the knees. He seemed completely all at ease, as if there were absolutely nothing wrong with approaching people in dark hallways and making obscure and otherwise annoying comments. There was absolutely no disapproval from his mannerisms, but nor did it seem anywhere near all right. It wasn't as if the taller man was being patronizing, just that he had an uncanny ability to seem so immature while yet casting a complete control over his every word, his every small gesture.

Obi-Wan wondered if perhaps he was slightly mentally unstable for the overly happy-go-lucky attitude the young man projected.

"Really." And then there was a hint of censure to Kerian's voice, revealing to the younger Jedi that he had a very great skill in masking his true thoughts through played up emotions and reactions. The change had been immediate, and Obi-Wan filed him away as dangerous. Mentally unstable, perhaps, but dangerous nevertheless. "You're making immediate assumptions merely because you're lacking the ability to otherwise read me, and..." Kerian shrugged. "Sit down, m'kay? I'm not going to shoot you or anything. And I'm not insane."

Obi-Wan merely glared slightly at the younger man. At least, he assumed he was younger. Obi-Wan didn't have a like of clashes in personal relationships, in diplomacy, in basic communications. And the way this Kerian carried himself completely tore apart all of that. He was...

"Chaotic," Kerian filled in.

Obi-Wan eyed him.

Kerian shrugged. "Uh... the narrators are babbling. Besides, it's written all over your face, you know."

"Narrators..."

"I'm kidding. Hey. I'm just used to everyone immediately reacting to my personality. It's normal for people to not take so well to... well..." Kerian hesitated. "Salient, as it's been put before. Salient or melodramatic beings. The type of folk who can turn on and off their actions at will?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "Melodramatic."

Kerian eyes widened slightly in an believably earnest expression, and he stated sincerely, "Runs in the family."

Obi-Wan couldn't help but inwardly congratulate this Kerian on his ability to look completely sincere while still completely changing parts. He was an incredible actor and very good at keeping his expression exactly on par to his part, and that made him one of the more dangerous beings the Jedi Padawan had faced. "And this relates how?"

"Pointless small talk," the younger man immediately responded. "'I'm trying to annoy you into relaxing enough that I can actually say anything with purpose without you glaring at me like that."

Obi-Wan blinked, and just managed to keep himself from outwardly responding to this in the manner he knew the— well, he wasn't certain _what_ Kerian was— young man was expecting. Had he said anything, it would've been along the lines of "..." said Obi-Wan. He had been rendered to a point of almost horror by this one's tactics.

"It's generally very effective and leaves most people standing there struck silent because they can't think of a logical or purpose achieving reply when I explain what I'm doing, beyond, perhaps, an ellipses," Kerian reasoned. "Like you're doing now, you now."

Obi-Wan drew in a breath, exhaled, and blinked a couple of times. Around him, shadows teased the walls of the hall, dancing with the light to create interesting shapes over the decorative tiles. He knew this was caused by the wind rustling the newborn vines over the temple, knew it wasn't some effect of eerie outside creatures attempting to bother him. Finally he managed to muster the breath to reply, as Kerian was obviously waiting for a reply, and obviously _patient _enough to wait for one. He spoke carefully. "Of... course."

"And I really am not insane," Kerian added earnestly. "There actually is a conspiracy outside of this galaxy in another dimension causing a various system of alternate realities to collide with our own, bringing about general confusion, lack of ability to think straight, and uncanonical occurrences."

Obi-Wan blinked again.

"And there really is other powers beside the Force, and there really is an insanely evil lightsaber wielding dude out to get you, and... you know, maybe it'd be best if I just left this for now..."

"Wait!" Obi-Wan started, but Kerian had already melded back into the shadows, and vanished as effectively as any human being could manage without using a cloaking device or the Force.

Obi-Wan raised a hand, ran it across his buzz cut short hair. It really did nothing to aid or hinder his appearance, as it was too short to really be shifted by the pressure of his hand. The only thing that could've really helped would have been some gel, and Obi-Wan had tried spiking his hair once— it hadn't looked so great.

So all in all, his action did nothing but express complete confusion at the situation. And if nothing else, at least that was true, and that aided enough.

He drew in a deep breath. Suddenly he wasn't hungry anymore. In honesty, that was a stretch for Obi-Wan, well merited for an appetite among his peers back at the Temple. But his stomach had seemed to curdle in on itself, a dry gnawing pain in his mind that left even the idea of food to run freely away. _He had to have been insane..._

But even that attempt at reassuring himself did nothing, and Obi-Wan still found he had a sick feeling in his stomach, a twisted whisper in the back of his mind that couldn't be translated. But he could tell one thing from it, though he hated to think the words. They were too willing to tempt fate, those words. _I have a bad feeling about this._

He headed off in the direction of the nearest gym or training room instead. Less people than in a cafeteria, he decided.

* * *

_Oh, Force..._

It was at that moment that the Jedi woman's senses snapped back to normal, and she found herself stumbling. Stumbling when it wasn't even her own fault... stumbling because _there was nothing there..._ She forced her eyes open, and let herself adapt. It only took her a split second to take in the entirety of the situation. A being that she was not falling. B that wherever she was, it wasn't normal, and she didn't like it.

Mara Jade stood up, even though the logical half of her mind screamed at her that there was nothing underneath her feet, that there was nothing surrounding her and that she was trapped in cold vacuum and it was digging into her skull, slowly pulling her molecules apart to drift in the endless ice that was known as space, leaving her a quick, but agonizingly painful death. She could feel the knives dig under her skin as the vacuum permeated, her face turning a ghastly shade of blue as the air seemed to vanish from her very lungs. The woman stumbled to her knees...

_No._

She closed her eyes, and forced herself to take in a deep breath. Leaving her eyes closed, she reached forwards and touched the ground underneath her knees.

Solid.

A frown creased her face in a deepening line, her lips as thin as a hastily drawn graphite mark across a page. An illusion, she reasoned, standing up, but keeping her eyes closed, and her mind as far from the idea of a solid vacuum. Clearly, it was not vacuum. If it were, she would've been swallowed by its icy maw long ago, cast into a deep and eternal sleep. She was not dead. The thought was sharp. This place could only mean death.

_Myrkr_. The pursed expression that touched her face indicated a moment of wry confusion. It wasn't quite... no, not quite. Opening her mind back to the Force, she let that emptiness channel in, and knew for one swift moment all too well. This was not Myrkr. The Force wasn't so much as vanquished as it was merely _silent_. It had become water, flowing through her fingers. Her fingers had become a net, not catching anything beyond the dampness that lingered on as a memory that the water was truly there.

Forcing her eyes to remain closed, she brought her hands over her clothing, the touch lingering on in memory. Her neckline-it was still the ordinary Jedi cut. The lines still followed in an overlapping pattern as her hands moved carefully lower, as to not disturb the costume, the skintight nylon body suit still clinging to her form underneath the loose tunic. Her belt... here Mara allowed her frown to deepen further, letting her hands be her eyes. It wasn't a strange thing. Most Jedi learned from a fairly early age how to let their hands be their eyes, how to let the Force guide them rather than their external senses. _Your eyes can deceive you_, she thought in memory. _Don't trust them_.

So true. All too true here.

There was a strong feeling of emptiness where her lightsaber had been. An amused expression touched her face for a vague hint of a moment, picking a reminder of the jungle of Yavin in the form of a twig, two rocks, and something crawly with a slight scaly feeling to its skin that made her glad she wasn't allowing herself to see. She tossed these aside, and carried on around her belt. Holdout blaster... check. Food rations. She let her fingers linger here, tracing the oval outlines of the metallic toned canisters. No one ever _wanted_ to survive on the condensed meal pellets. They tasted like, well, it would've been honoring them to say that they tasted like flavored dirt. It would've been a stretch to say they tasted like decent dirt, actually. It was more a flavorless mush, embodied with all the nutritions needed to keep a growing human alive (or dying, if you believed in the Vong religions). Healthy, she thought, but they still tasted like something that didn't belong in words.

Enough to survive a couple weeks, though, she noted. And alongside them, water. She moved on from the food supplies, hoping it wouldn't come to needing to survive solely on rations. That would just have been disgusting, even if it was something probably every Jedi had come to in at least one point of their life. Rebreather... check. Comlink...

Mara pulled the metal communications device from her belt, held it up and tentatively opened one eye. It was easier to let her eyes deceive her when both were open. Examining the device, it seemed as if it had gone dead. Attempting to signal home only led the device to exude a pitiful wail of distress before cutting short.

_Stang_, she thought with a bitter expression, thankful Ben wasn't around to hear her innerly cursing in language he wasn't _suppose_ to repeat. But, ever conservative on what issues might come to pass, she clipped it back into its old location, and finished her checklist of her supplies. It was clear she wasn't on Yavin IV anymore, and she highly doubted that whatever strange occurrence had led her to this outside location had brought Luke along as well.

It didn't faze her. There was no purpose in letting herself panic just because she was caught in a location that seemingly was completely cut off from reality, acted as if it were hard vacuum if you let yourself think about it, and made the Force seem like a liquid unable to be grasped and tied into its ordinary threads. She had been trained to adapt to any situation, no matter how complex or off the wall. This one didn't have to be any different.

_You have the supplies to survive for a while_, she told herself calmly. _You won't have to use them for that while. Because you're going to get out of here._

_How?_

_Well, that's what we're going to find out._

She took a small blade from her belt, careful to keep her one eye on it as she took one corner of her robe, and cut a strip from it. It cut with a harsh tearing noise, but one that didn't last as long as it would have in an ordinary situation, swiftly snapping into silence. Her left eye wanted to pop back open, wanting to even off her vision. Mara wasn't about to let it. Not when she was standing on ground that allowed the illusion of not standing anywhere at all.

It was reasonable. If her sight was going to deceive her, she didn't need to use it. She snapped the blade back into the small vibroknife, tucked it back away in her belt. Taking the strip of brown fabric, she bound it around her eyes, and found the sense of darkness to be... relieving.

She closed her eyes underneath the thick strip of cloth and let her mind drift swiftly into the chill darkness that made her both the predator and the planner, the spy and the mastermind. _Fire_, she thought. Finding something to burn in the black feel of vacuum might break some of the illusion, and render her able to walk without falling back into it. Even blindfolded, it wanted to grasp her again. Even Mara Jade couldn't avoid the feeling completely that she had been cast EV without a suit on and that space was about to take her into its jaws and chew her to death in a matter of seconds.

Having witnessed someone's death by access to vacuum, Mara wasn't exactly certain she wanted to try mimicking it herself.

It was almost a meditation she let herself fall into, but yet open to the universe around her, so that if something occurred she would be there, blaster in hand if necessary, and perhaps merely empty handed to challenge her attacker. Just enough of her attempting to access the Force, to let herself _know_, and just enough of her gone back to the side that knew she could adapt to anything that the universe threw at her and fight it back, dying if she had to, but dying and shedding some of their blood before she had to collapse.

_The Sith._

_Where is the Sith?_

Like Luke, he was elusive. Gone from her area of vision, and yet not dead.

_He got into my mind._ Mara narrowed her eyes, although being as they were closed this hardly achieved anything. Everything else had been eliminated from her circle of awareness, but Luke and this strange attacker remained just close enough that she could know they lived. Luke, and the Sith, and Ben, and Jaina.

_I got into his mind a moment before I blacked out. He fought me as hard as I fought him. A worthy opponent. Who are you?_

The darkness hummed with nervousness, a timorous fear closing over it. It wanted to drive into her mind, to control her before she became too controlled for it to command her every nerves, to force her into becoming nothing more than a little puppet, swallowed by unending terror that somehow it could produce. _Maul. He was Darth Maul._

_How much access did he have of my mind?_

"Kriffing Sith," she spat aloud, her voice swallowed by the dark jaws of this shadow realm, this vacuum. _Too much._

_And why isn't he here now? Where is he?_

Mara frowned. _He wasn't one to allow mercy for no purpose. Something scared him away before he could kill me._

_Or...no. _She chased away the nagging voice that said she _was_ dead, and this was all the afterlife had to offer. An unending passage of teasing and taunting vacuum. The voice of logic said calmly that if she were dead, she would not have all her possessions on hand, including whatever the slightly scaly reptile had been that had lodged itself to her loose tunic. Particularly not that, as it would've had to have been dead too. Not as if this was an unlikely proposition, as surely in the battle several unfortunate jungle creatures had met their ultimate demise. When fighting for your life, you don't consider the birds.

_I am not dead_.

And what of the feeling that had smashed into her perhaps minutes, even seconds, before the Sith... Maul... had thrown her down. She remembered lashing out towards him, her lightsaber knocked from her hand and flying into the bushed. Blackness had overwhelmed the red lust for blood and survival that had masked her vision. She remembered even further away that her back had crushed into the trees and something had cut into her tunic, because it hadn't been made for falling Jedi to crash into.

She let herself reach about her tunic and touch the back where a scar from a tree or something equally sharp had ripped through to the final layer of black skintight nylon. Fortunately it had left the final layer in tact. But it went to prove her memories had served her correctly here, if nothing more.

Mara sighed. What _of_ the strange feeling of wrongness? It had felt as if time had contorted around her every bone, sinew, muscle, and fiber of her body. As if for one moment she had been ripped from reality, her mind swimming in an ocean of possibilities. _Possibilities which could in turn offer an entirely new blank slate. _

_What better to initiate a blank slate than vacuum, than the hard emptiness of space?_

No, it was only a theory, she thought with a grimace.

The theory didn't leave her mind, though, circling in teasing passages. Time. A stream of something outside of the Force, and yet not so outside of it that it was something completely sundered. Something... _Could the Force be used to manipulate Time_?

Mara was not so quick to discard the idea as an ordinary being might have been. After all, here there was no time to worry about. Her only worries were far outside of where her hands could touch, and as soon as she could get back, she would allow herself to ignore these harebrained ideas concerning Time. But not yet. Now she could, alongside of worrying about Luke and keeping her mind open just in case the Sith had followed after her into this world of nothingness.

Where was the Sith, anyway? _Know your enemies_, she thought. _Keep them close, but not close enough to stab you in the heart_.


	10. 9: Saga's Shadow

**A/N: **The latter part of this chapter is dedicated to Molly, my old beta reader. I am now being betaed by Amidala Skywalker of THANK YOU, AMI! (grins) My updates are more likely to come more frequently on there, to be certain, but I'll try to remember to update on here, even without readers...

**-Chapter Nine-**

In the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, a female Padawan sat with crossed legs in the middle of a garden. Even without the Force to truly sense anything, she still felt relatively at peace sitting there with eyes half closed and the sun burning down on the back of her head and arms. She had a feeling that the next day, she was going to end up rather burnt. At least, if there was a next day.

_Wow, I'm such a pessimist_, she thought without any humor.

She opened her eyes. Around her green foliage grew up to mask the technology of Coruscant, though the skyline still showed from where she sat on the ground, if you could call it that. After all, it was only retransplanted soil over miles and miles of metal, transparisteel, and ferrocrete, and perhaps even some wooden buildings. After all, no one knew what lay in the depths of the thousands of layers within Coruscant's onion ring of cores. Whether there were buildings inlayed with silver qareth metal and built from the hard wood of Onorian's red Yleeth trees, or a building completely built of transparisteel, or perhaps...

Always perhaps.

A hint of a smile touched her face. Everything was built on possibilities; the Padawan had learned this fast. Everything could billow into a cloud of chaos if one thing went wrong, and sometimes one thing that went wrong could be the beginning of so many right things, though no one realized it at the moment. One action could change the course of the everything.

One death could save a million others.

That caused her expression to grow grimmer. Death... she could feel it too clearly, even outside of the Force. Yet not death. Not yet.

"I'm being unreasonably melodramatic!" she expressed suddenly aloud, standing up and rubbing black hair out of her face. Her hair was almost straight, yet almost wavy in spots. It was as if it had been attacked by a rogue straightening iron and a curler at the same time, both skipping a few spots, and battling over a couple of others. Her face had that same appearance, a few spots being attacked by rogue acne and about seven freckles in various places. Bar that, however, she was relatively pale with amber eyes, a long braid trailing over her right shoulder and across her gray and navy garb.

To examine her face, she looked to be perhaps seventeen, and certainly no older. There was a childlike innocence to her features, though her eyes differed, showing a maturity brought about by being raised in the Order. It was the hard eyes that changed her so much; while her face was friendly and her body carefully curved into a petite though slightly chunky form, she still appeared Dark. She still had the ability to be taken seriously.

"And I'm talking to myself. What is this world coming to!" She threw up her hands, grasping at the air for a moment, then let them drop with a frustration. Without the Force, the Jedi were nothing. She was a Jedi.

_Then I am nothing. _

_Why am I being melodramatic again?_

She sighed. It snapped through the nearly silent air, and sent a small flock of birds scattering into the sky, one of whom hit a speeder and went tumbling to its demise in the depths of Coruscant. Hitting a young Bothan on the head, he went running off shrieking about the bird being a sign from God, and started a minor religious trend in the underlevels until it was realized that it was all a falsery started by the not so well timed death of a bird. Of course, none of this had any specific effects on the Jedi Padawan in question. However, it did have an effect on a suicidal Hutt, who was astounded by the sincerity of the young Bothan who had thought the bird was a sign from above, even when threatened by death by an older and far smarter Wookiee with a Dug right behind him. Though the Bothan became... er... toast, the Hutt rethought his life of crime and turned to a life of music and art instead, writing a series of best selling albums that made the top charts on Brolieas for about two weeks.

This did effect the girl, as she was forced to listen to the album for about five hours straight in approximately three months. However, she was completely unaware at that time that her sighing and startling a flock of birds was the cause of her later torment.

"I thought I'd find you here."

The girl turned around to find herself face-to-face with her rather green-tinted Master. Of course, as Master J'thwa Kyrae was a Twi'lek, and green from birth, there was absolutely nothing wrong with this. He was around six feet five inches tall, and easily looked down on the five-foot-six human girl.

"Well, obviously I was here," she said dryly.

"Obviously," J'thwa noted. "And had you not been, Chade, I could have assumed you would have been in the cafeteria."

She shrugged. The girl now revealed as Chade- short for Cy'ladeialan, as had been earlier noted- glanced up at her tired eyed Master for a moment. "Probably. You know, you look tired, Master."

"Thank you for stating the obvious."

"You're quite welcome." She was a cynic at heart, but he had grown long used to her cuttingly sarcastic remarks. They didn't always hurt, though he had explained there was a time to be sarcastic and a time to be polite to her.

He sat down on a nearby bench, his long fingernails drumming across its pseudo-wood surface. They teased the other drumrolls present, interwound with the hum of speeders and the rush of water from a nearby fountain. All the Temple's gardens had some form of fountain or pond- it seemed nearly all the Jedi Masters could agree that the water was a soothing environment to be in. It seemed welcoming, at least, if nothing else. And yet, Chade had once commented that the rustle of water seemed to whisper of death, to beckon to an icy chill that could break a person's heart and soul and physical form.

But then, she was just like that. Both salient and the cynical, a silent pessimist, possibly one of the galaxy's worst combinations. Even worse, J'thwa reflected, than one Jedi Knight he had met a few years ago. A bit impetuous, that human woman had been, and as melodramatically drawing as any being could have been. And so confusing... how someone that shifty from the Jedi's typical morals could have been Knighted was far beyond him.

_Who was she? Aurek something... Esk, I think her surname was. Elass. Calthye-Elass... _

"You've been out here a lot." He dropped his thoughts from the Jedi Knight his thought had turned to. She didn't matter in the entire scheme of things, even if a rival to his Padawan's seeming skill at being a paradox.

"If you're trying to get an answer, you could just ask a question."

He glanced at her. "Not everyone believes in being as abrupt as you, my dear Padawan."

Chade only shrugged, and picked up a small broken twig to scratch at a patch of earth that wasn't covered by grassy landscape. Sketching out her initials, she dug them out into a deep trench, and poked a small beetle into it. An oddly amused grin crossed her face as she watched the insect struggle to get out of the deep C shaped gorge. Someday, this would all be gone, she thought.

For a long while, there was silence between the two. That was what formed their deep bond; that they could be quiet around each other without uncomfortable feelings growing. He would not have hesitated to say he loved the girl, though perhaps not in the same way as anyone could have loved a girlfriend. No, she was a daughter to him; a daughter and a very close friend.

"I presume you were implying something by making that statement," she finally said once the shimmery sable-colored beetle had escaped her little trap by taking flight. Her eyes trailed after the little beacon into the air, watching the flicker of wings, then turned her eyes back over to her alien Master.

He shrugged slightly. "You tell me."

"You know, you're every bit as irritating as I am."

"Possibly."

She snorted slightly. "You told me that I've been out here a lot. You wouldn't've stated that had there been no purpose. So you're implying something."

He examined her face with a completely unrevealing expression. "And what are you implying that I'm implying?"

He noticed her draw in a deep breath, hold it for a three count and exhale slowly to regain any possibly loss of composure. "I'm implying that you're implying something about the possible implications of my being out here."

"PMS?" J'thwa inquired with a grin.

She glared at him. He didn't drop the grin though, but he did carry on. "But seriously. Something's bothering you, isn't it?"

"I'm fine."

"Padawan."

"Don't talk to me like that!"

He gave her a slightly odd expression. "I have to rank you to get anything out of you, then you protest when I do."

She shrugged, back partly turned away from him as she stared at the nearest tree. The bark on it remarkably amused her, as it was nearly a purple tone once she got past the ivory leaves. But she knew her momentary interest in the caraganna tree was only to avoid answering her Master's questions, to avoid facing up to everything that was bothering her.

And somehow in her process of staring at the tree, he managed to move silently, and come up behind her, one hand resting on her shoulder. "And it's not just because you're discovering what it's like to be a female human teenager around male human teenagers anymore, is it?"

"They were hitting on me!" she protested.

He smiled doubtfully. "And you weren't?"

"Well..."

He cut her off, though gently. "What's bothering you? Beyond hormones and the Force vanishing."

She turned her head to glance at him, amber eyes meeting dark blue. It only took a couple moments to observe concern in his expression, a parental desire to make sure that she stayed all right, stayed out of harm's way, out of the million different troubles that seemed to chase so many Jedi pairs around the galaxy.

"I can't get away with telling you that it was because I ate an expired juba jam sandwich, can I?" she asked lightly.

He shook his head, though he couldn't help the slight smile that toyed at the edge of his expression, threatening to send him into laughter and complete off-topic discussion. J'thwa knew that was exactly what his Padawan was aiming for anyway.

She sighed. "Well, it was worth a shot."

He allowed a piece of a smile to touch his green face, crow's feet crinkling around his blue eyes. "I'm sure."

"Master..." Chade hesitated. "Are there powers outside of the Force?"

And he recoiled almost as if struck. "I... have no idea," J'thwa finally managed. "Where did that come from?"

She sighed slightly. "Absolutely nowhere, of course. Now, if you'll excuse me, Master, I have to go and sharpen several pencils." The girl stood up in one quick motion and whirled to leave the garden.

"Chade..." He sighed, cut off. For a moment his hands lingered in the air in an attempt to hold her back, but it failed, and they dropped to his side helplessly. He stared blankly at the air for a long moment, debating whether to go after her and pursue the subject question and motive, decided against it after a few moments of thought. He'd talk to her later. _Girls!_

_More particularly, Padawans_.

* * *

It never comfortably comes together. Puzzle pieces, broken chains, shattered windows and a falling star…

You try as you might, but still you struggle to focus and interlace each piece. Still you war with your mind as you debate just _how_ the prisoner cut his chains. You stare in horror at the shattered glass trailing over the floor…

And you close your eyes and make a wish.

There is a sound that summarizes all the emotions, agony, and entire lifespan of a galaxy in two syllables. It's simply _snap-hiss_. It's the sound that cuts through hearts; it freezes blood, hikes pulses, and _destroys_. The sound that makes you turn around in trepidation, fearing to see what stands behind you, a gleaming blade in hand.

A sound that makes some praise, and thank the heavens for sending their salvation.

A lightsaber is the universal symbol for the Jedi Knights. Some would say that it is constant with all times, something that never could be changed. A set truth, they would say. Something as unchangeable as gravity's pull.

But who are they to speak?

There was a time when lightsabers were unheard of, merely an inkling in the eyes of a Jedi Knight. And there will be a time when there are no more, their crystals shattered, the hilts only distant memories. And there will be a time when gravity hardly matters in the entire scheme of things, perhaps even to the entirety of no longer existing.

With anti-gravity technology, could it simply become a thing of the past for things to stay put when they could float?

This contemplation was beyond the mind of Obi-Wan Kenobi, standing at ease in the center of a room, his lightsaber held unconscientiously in his right hand. Yet perhaps this was an illusion; the years-later great Jedi Master would never have been so careless about his actions—yet focused. He wasn't that great Jedi Master now, however. He was merely Padawan Kenobi, a braid gracing the right side of his head, curled behind his ear, a small ponytail in behind, and no great rank to call his own.

In this now, it didn't matter. The term Padawan had fallen to nonexistence, the name Ben Kenobi the name of a legend, and the young human forced to walk in a saga's shadow.

He swung.

His lightsaber hissed through the air, fighting that shadow. A slash, a smack, a brief trail of smoke as his blade accidentally skimmed the floor—

Obi-Wan knew he never would have done that had he been at home. But this wasn't home, now was it? This was a place so far away that even Time was different…

He parried. Blocking invisible attacks that only his mind could see, his blue blade became a whirling force overhead, a strike to be reckoned with.

Falling away from the basic lightsaber kata moves now, he drew further and further into what he only knew as the Force. The energy field binding the galaxy together… would there come a time when it too was vanquished?

Allowing his feet to leave the floor, he twisted in midair, whirled a crystalline attack at the shadow haunting his existence in this now, and wanted so badly to fall. Qui-Gon would've insisted he carry on blindfolded after such foolishness. He was being a showoff, too much bravado intertwined with every action.

But Qui-Gon wasn't here, now, was he?

He fell into the shadow within, the piece of his mind that said he could never live up to the legend surrounding Obi-Wan Kenobi of this time, and attacked it too. Now there were two shadows to duel, the one of Old Ben Kenobi, a wizened old Jedi Master who looked to have undergone everything from betrayal, love, death, and heartbreak in the matter of seconds. And then the other one, the shadow of himself, a darkened cowl hiding the expression but not masking the taunting words.

_You can't do it. _

"Yes… I… _can_!" Teeth gritted, a drop of sweat traced a path down his forehead.

And so, in this moment, he fought. He fought the shadows, he fought the voices, and he fought the mystery and the absences and the bloody _impossibility_ of it all. He simply fought, and let it vanish into the adrenaline rush that covered him in sweat, and washed the tears and fears away. It made them as distant as the mocking shadows and the voices that teased him and screamed that he could never be the silhouette of himself.

It was black. He could neither see himself nor understand himself. He could neither live nor breathe, die or waste away. _Nothing._

He was a stream in amidst so many obstacles. He was liquid, crystal-clear, something that could only be seen through rather than wielded as a weapon. He was… _was… _

_A shadow. _

_I am a shadow of my past._

By this point his deep blue eyes were closed tightly; sweat tracing its way in rivets down his forehead to soak into his well-worn tunic. His entire body felt bathed in salty liquid, exhaustion beginning to assault him from all turns and corners. And yet, as distant as he threw himself, there was the voice that whispered at him from the ever-drawing darkness.

_You died. _

_You died at the hand of your own pupil. Even as Qui-Gon had trained you up to be a Jedi Knight, you trained up another, and you failed. He turned against you… _

_Crimson._

Obi-Wan remembered, still carrying on with the kata so memorized that he could do it unconsciously. He had been ordered to learn it until he could follow the patterns in his sleep. Now, he was almost following them that sleepily. He remembered…

_The pain was far more intensive than anything you had ever undergone before. In training sessions, of course, you had been skimmed by the energy of a lightsaber blade, the heat scorching through your tunic and leaving, in one occasion, your sleeve to fall to the floor. But this was more deadly, more agonizing. Behind the black mask, you could see the face of Anakin Skywalker staring at you, those blue eyes slicing through to your core. _

_Even still, you were peaceful as his weapon sliced through your heart and mind. You were peaceful in the few seconds where blood still circulated through your being, and then…_

Vanished.

Obi-Wan drew in a sharp breath as he lost his step, lightsaber switching to low-power, and then to off as it rolled from his hands. A moment later, his face smashed into the hardwood floor of the Jedi Temple, and he found himself coughing to regain his breath.

There were footsteps.

_They're coming for you!_

Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself upwards in time to observe a tall figure bend and pick his lightsaber up. Holding the chrome-tinted weapon lightly in his hands, Obi-Wan was left to watch as the stranger examined the weapon loosely. _One of the Masters here_? he wondered, and felt some slight relief at his thoughts being his own once more. Even with that in mind, Obi-Wan couldn't shake the thought that there was a azure ghost hovering behind him, a shadow of a long-deceased Jedi Master (or perhaps simply a demon, as the strange tattooed being had seemed to be) whispering words in his ear.

"A well crafted weapon," the man remarked, tossing it back to its owner. "They don't make lightsabers like these any longer, you know."

_Not another one_… Obi-Wan just barely caught his lightsaber in one hand without losing his balance. The memory of the kata still fresh in mind, sweat gleamed on his face and arms, soaking his tunic straight through to the skin in places. "Who…?"

Waving his hand, the newcomer shrugged. "I'm not here to distract you, young Padawan. Feel free to carry on with your practice. I merely felt the need to remark on your quite nicely done lightsaber. As I said: you won't see very many like this left in the galaxy. Not anymore."

Obi-Wan remembered his manners, dropped a hasty Jedi bow. "Thank you, Master…?"

"Vilanar."

"Master Vilanar." Obi-Wan nodded, and fell back into a sparring stance, letting an offensive expression cross his face for a moment. "Had you wanted… Wait…!" He suddenly swirled back in the direction of the strange man—

The strange man who had vanished without so much as a puff of smoke left to indicate the use of black magic. His mouth almost remained agape for a second or two, but, pulling himself together, Obi-Wan fell back into the unrestrained kata sequence. It was safer than attempting to fathom what went on in a continual incomprehensible existence of both paradox and princible.

And yet, he felt inebriated with the confusion. Shattered mirrors twisted around him, leaving pieces of reflections of various times. Maybe, he thought, he would wake up and escape the rabbit hole before he discovered a monster within its earth-filled maw.

Catch the falling star before it falls out of reach.


	11. 10: Flatlined

Betaed by Ami. Thank you, Ami! And, to my readers, please take the time to reread chapter 1, which has been officially rewritten (like the prologue) to fit comfortably into the rest of the story. Chapter's 2 and 3 may soon undergo similar fates.

**-Chapter Ten-**

A pale hand clapped itself onto the young slave boy's arm, and Anakin yelled in shock. The ship had long since jerked itself from hyperspace, he realized, but he had been sleeping. Catching himself before he stumbled, he pulled himself up to his feet to stare the figure in the eye rebelliously.

Anakin picked a strand of overgrown hair from his eyes, having adapted to a childish and foolhardy stance, legs and arms akimbo. The utter act of immature defiance.

"Anakin--Anakin, listen to me."

"Wha…who are you?"

A pale figure, weary as if fighting a long period of exhaustion, stared down at him. The rich clothing vaguely reminded the younger Skywalker of the Naboo royalty, but the figure seemed tainted. Both royal and evil, two interwound stares coming from the space of one older man. An older man who sighed.

"I'm afraid this isn't the place for introductions. You see, there are people here who wouldn't be pleased to know I'm around."

One child's hand snaked forward, snapping through the figure's arm. As his fingers slipped through, they felt cold, as if some ice had encased them for a moment. A wisp of ice drifted past, and his fingers tingled with a sharp level of pain. Anakin stifled a yelp, shaking them swiftly.

"That's right. I'm not here."

The tingling grew worse. Anakin put his fingers in his mouth, sucking on them to relieve the overwhelming frostbite. A feeling that was the most alien thing he had ever experienced by far. "Uh? Uh ie are ou ere?" he said from around his fingers.

"I need your help, young Skywalker." The figure's eyes narrowed. "You see, I can't influence this world, and for you, it's a strange world. I need your help. Back in your own time--you see, this is the future, your future--things have went horribly wrong. Will you help me?"

"Iy ue?"

"Because you're the best we've got."

Anakin blinked owlish blue eyes, taking his fingers from his mouth and wiping them on his tunic. The freezing sensation had faded, leaving his fingers with a slight numbness. "Really? Cool."

* * *

"What? What do you mean, Luke's not going to see us? I'm his damn brother in law!" Han Solo folded his arms and glowered at the slender Jedi Master barring his and Leia's entry into the Jedi Temple. Or, more particularly, Luke's chambers.

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "Master Skywalker is indisposed."

"Indisposed? Like Kessel he is--"

Leia's hand cut off Han sharply, but only because she jabbed it into a particularly sensitive location on his ribs, causing the ex-smuggler to mask a yell behind a cough. She stepped forward, facing the ice-haired woman thoughtfully. "What has happened to Luke?"

"I'm not at liberty to say."

"Leave the Temple for any time at all, and they decide you're no longer worthy to hear their plots," Han muttered under his breath, clutching his side. Leia kept her fingernails sharp, and years of experience had led her to know exactly where to jab to silence him. She had shook her head, rolling eyes to herself at his behavior, though they both knew it was simply because they had left the sleeping Anakin aboard the Falcon, and neither of them knew him well enough to trust he wouldn't take off with the ship.

But there weren't very many people out there that would know how to fly the Falcon.

"Master Skywalker was wounded," the Jedi Master finally conceded after a while of Leia's careful diplomatic (and perhaps not so diplomatic)  
pressuring.

"It's best he's left to rest for a while. If you'd like to leave a message…"  
Leia shook her head. "No. We'll wait."

"Very well." The silver woman turned and stalked away. Her footsteps were firm, the sharp moves of someone who felt she was higher than any, hah, princess. Holier than thou, or something of a severe likeness.

Han made move to stalk after her and demand rights; his expression certainly said he was going to, and not exactly politely, but again Leia caught him with a shake of her head. "Hey, I'm worried too," she said softly. "But we have time."

"Yeah. Sure we do," Han grumbled. "May as well waste it making sure little Skywalker wannabe doesn't steal my ship."

Leia sighed. There was just no dealing with some people, some days.

* * *

"Wait!"

The rush of footsteps behind them caused Leia to turn sharply, nearly colliding with the tall and graceful figure of a man garbed in a tunic and robe, lightsaber haphazardly clipped to his belt. Years of training saved them both from an embarrassing collision, the Force offering a bit of a guide as to which would turn right, and which would turn left. She stumbled a moment, bringing herself upright in a graceful movement to catch his arm.

He was out of breath, sweat staining his forehead and tunic.

Her balance regained, Leia straightened her shirt neatly, regaining an almost immediate royal air. The change in his expression was evident, eyes almost widening at the sight of her. "Star's End, but you look like the queen," he murmured before seeming to recognize his location. Blue eyes regaining their previous calm, he dropped a hasty half-bow. "Pardon me, but you have a child with you? From Tatooine?"

"…Yes."

He nodded, seemingly relieved. Leia's eyes strayed for a moment to the braid dangling behind his ear, a bit of a ponytail sticking out behind a brush cut of hair. An interesting hairstyle, to be certain. "I apologize for rushing you. Anakin will know me."

"Will he?"

"Good," Han retorted from behind Leia. "That kid unnerves me. Who're you?"

"Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Leia's face altered slightly, a bit of a hiss of breath between her teeth escaping.

"Really."

Biting his lip, Obi-Wan sighed. "Yes. Pardon my rudeness for being abrupt, but I really must speak with young Skywalker."

"…" The moment only able to be described as an incredulous blank, Leia stared at him. But she caught herself a moment later, the rush of curiosity and startlement at an _Obi-Wan_ appearing along side an... "Anakin _Skywalker_?"

"Yes."

Her pallor altered remarkably in a short period of time. "Yes, well…" Leia managed. "Han, be a dear and bring Obi-Wan to see our passenger."

Han blinked and shrugged, taking her arm for a moment. "Sure. Whatever you'd like, sweetheart. Are you going to be all right?" His eyebrows seemed slightly quirked in a questioning nature. Kenobi? Kenobi's dead. What in Kessel is going on?

"Yes… I just need to sit down…"

Han gave a disgruntled sigh, and took her arm, leading her a bit awkwardly to the ship, yelling over his shoulder for the Jedi apprentice to follow him. A strange sort of shock had settled over Leia's expression, numbing her to a point of a drained continual blink, a pale expression staring mindlessly at the horizon and the trees beyond it. _Anakin… _Skywalker!

She sat down heavily in the nearest chair once Han had brought them into the _Falcon_, disregarding Obi-Wan's masked cough of opinion towards the ship, and ran her fingers into her hair. Already overwhelmed, she barely noticed Han's return after dropping Obi-Wan off in Anakin's so-called room. She did notice him when he took her arm, but still was only able to give him an absent and terrified stare.

"That _kid's_ Darth Vader?" Han asked, a level of ironic amusement touching his voice.

"No." Leia hugged him tightly. "But I think he will be."

* * *

A still, white presence seemed to fill the Jedi Master's room. Crystal blue eyes closed tightly against the calamity, only Jacen remained alongside his uncle, the sharp request to be left alone heeded by the other Jedi. Monitors had been set up for safety's sake, a steady heartbeat, pulse, and oxygen level coursing through his body. For the gentle rise and fall of Luke's chest, he could have been peacefully asleep.

But he wasn't, and Jacen was concerned. Practically on the moment, when they had arrived at the Jedi Temple, Luke had grown gradually dizzier, walking as a drunken man. It couldn't have been Mara's disappearance, Jacen reasoned. There had never been any such intensive bond that the mere thought of her being elsewhere would cause a faintness in the Jedi Master. But whatever had left him collapsed in the forest, lightsaber wounds to the brush about him--

He made up his mind, rising and leaving the ongoing orders for Luke to be undisturbed, slipping back into the depths of Yavin IV's jungle.

Meeting with no resistance on his exit, Jacen quickly left the skeleton Temple behind him. He already knew the path, swiftly heading back into the depths where Luke had been originally left. There hadn't been time to properly examine it before--he was missing something, he knew it.

Lightsaber burns.

They had been there before, and he had absorbed this. Kneeling beside the first scarred plant, Jacen reached out a careful hand to touch the bark. The heat cauterized sap as well as blood, leaving a burnt scab slashing through the branches. A battle had taken place here. The very area smelt of it, a certain aura of both ozone, fear, and blood retained in the air.

He rose.

They had battled. Two Jedi against another, surely. Mara had been with Luke, and even sparring against his own wife, the Jedi Master never would have been brought to a point where he intentionally destroyed the area around them. Nor would have Mara, as dark as her emotions lay. Something had been here, something with the intent to destroy, laughing bitterly to itself as it brought a blade through the very essence of the forest.

But whatever it had been, it hadn't killed Luke. Had it killed Mara, and taken the body to feed off of it? Jacen's mind suggested swiftly the various options along the obvious Jedi's choice. A Dark Jedi, if there were such a thing, and that Order was every bit as unlikely to die out as the Jedi's. But a Sith or any Dark Jedi having beat Luke would surely have destroyed him within a moment's heartbeat.

There had been blood on Luke's face. A lightsaber didn't cause bleeding.

Jacen's eyes closed again for a moment before he swirled to the left and deeper into the forest, where the vines thickened and grew in clumps. The jungles were safer now, so many of the creatures having been killed off…

_something doesn't belong here…_

…_take it away from us, it burns!_

The voices of the forest screamed into his mind and Jacen gritted his teeth against the mental onslaught. It was hard to avoid hearing, but even harder to avoid simply falling into it and letting that reality be his all for a time, to focus and _use_ that offered strength. Stretching out a slender hand, his fingers curled around a foreign object.

Jacen's eyes snapped back open.

In his hands lay the tubular shape of a dark lightsaber handle.

* * *

_Beep… beep…_

Peacefully, Luke remained in a steadfast sleep, hands clasped overtop his chest. One finger twitched slightly, the Jedi Master making an attempt to roll over and bat at the alarm clock that surely had to be going off, his mind screamed. The slight flailing sent a vase flying off the table to crash against the ground. A few chips broke off of it, the water contained spilling out, but it didn't break, simply skittering off underneath the table.

His eyes opened at the startling smash, and Luke muttered something under his breath, reaching out with the Force. Gradually, the vase maneuvered back from underneath the bed, shakily floating up into the air.

_Beep… beep…_

He floated it back down onto the table and closed his eyes again wearily. One hand flickered up to the side of his face where he had been bandaged.

_Beep… beep…_

Luke lowered his hand back down to his chest, fingers automatically intertwining in a sort of weary exhaustion. A breath escaped from his lips, loud and a bit exhausted, empty and forlorn. Where was Mara? Again, he exhaled.

_Beep……beep…………beep…………………_

The machine flat lined.

* * *

Leia cried out suddenly; on reflex Han clutched her tighter, both of their eyes going wide. "Hey… what is it, honey?" he tried to sooth, rubbing her back lightly. "Catch your hair?"

"N-no…" She shook her head, crumpling against him. "Luke… Luke's dead!"


End file.
